I won't send roses
by funnygirl00
Summary: "It truly would have been better if Sherlock and I hadn't met, for I killed him." When Tammy moved to London, Sherlock Holmes was the last man that she'd expect to fall in love with, much less to marry him! Her brother is Sherlock's greatest enemy. Can their love last after Reichenbach, or will someone else capture her heart? Can he win her back again? Season 3 SPOILERS!
1. 1: Meeting Sherlock Holmes

**Ok, this is my first Sherlock fic and I'm really excited about it. I am _not _real good with writing mysteries and I'm not 100% sure I gave give this marvelous series all the justice it deserves. **

**I own nothing, except for Tammy.**

**I'd like to dedicate this fic to Trrmo77, who's been a great help to me in improving my grammar. (I really appreciate it how carefully phrases what I'm doing wrong with my grammar so I don't feel too discouraged. As a result, I've greatly improved, but there's always room for more.) She's also been a big help to me off fan fiction, helping me get through some difficult times with my family. She's also great at encouraging me when I get a little discouraged and her reviews never fail to make me smile.**

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Chapter One

Meeting Sherlock Holmes

* * *

I remember it as if it were yesterday. It was a cold day, one of the coldest winter's London had seen in a long time. I'd recently arrived yesterday and had moved into a basement flat that my lawyer had recommended for me. The price was reasonable and it was close to the nightclub where I'd be working. Everyone who knew me would find my choice of living rather unusual when one considered my previous lifestyle. But I loved London, I'd grown up here until I turned sixteen, then, my mother died and father needed a change of scenery. I hadn't wanted to leave, but I loved my father too much to add more pain to the grief he was feeling. Every road he'd walked along in London, he'd walked along with mother.

As I maneuvered through the cold streets of London with my favorite zebra scarf tightly tucked over my mouth, two men ahead of me, caught my attention. Now, I swear, I did try hard not to pay attention to the two gentlemen talking loudly in front of me. One was tall, had dark, curly hair, and his friend was shorter, slightly older, pepperish-blonde hair and had a minor limp. However, the taller man was agitated about something, and though I tried to ignore him, his voice kept catching my attention. It was truly an interesting voice. A growling, baritone voice, the man sounded like a jaguar.

"Think!" He said in agitated, frustration. His friend turned around, momentarily making eye contact with me. A blaze of embarrassment flooded my cheeks, I hadn't intended to appear as if I were eavesdropping. So I reached into my purse to find my MP3 player and listen to Vivaldi. "Who do we trust even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go?"

_Now_, he _really _had my attention. I loved riddles like these! Father would put to in my backpack every school day for me to solve during the lunch period. I don't know how he kept finding these riddles, some were easy, some were hard, but I always solved them. If I didn't, I sat, pouted and worked until I got it right. My favorite book as a child, next to the Narnia series, was the Lord of the Rings. You can probably guess now that my favorite scene in the Hobbit was where Bilbo and Gollum had their riddle game.

That growling jaguar voice of his caught my attention again. "Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?"

"I don't know," his friend asked. "who?"

"Haven't the faintest."

I hadn't intended for it to happen, but the answer flashed in my mind. Before I could stop the words, they came flying out of my mouth. "A taxi driver!" I blurted out loud enough to be heard by them.

The taller man stopped so suddenly that I almost crashed into him. I hadn't thought about dying, except at that moment and that's because I was. I was dying of embarrassment. He spun around and I found myself sucking in a breath. He wasn't dark, and drop-dead handsome as his rich, baritone voice had implied. Attractive, yes, but not handsome to my eyes. He was thin; his face was angular with razor-sharp cheekbones. I liked his nose but I considered his eyes to be his most attractive feature.

Oh good God, those eyes had such a piercing gaze that I felt as if he'd completely stripped me in five seconds flat! He had been gifted with piercing blue-green, gold eyes. I suspected the reason for them being so striking was because he had a condition called heterochromia. Eyes are the windows to a person's soul and I could tell he was an animated man. I'd definitely gotten more than I bargained for by not keeping my mouth shut.

He stepped towards me. "Say that again." He was tall, I felt like a munchkin standing before the wicked witch. Not that he was evil mind you, just intimidating. And I had on heels! I'm 5' 6' and my heels put me about two inches shy of 6' and I still felt small!

I flushed and tried to get myself out of this mess. "Sorry. I-I was just thinking out loud."

He stepped forward, his voice rumbled. "Then I suggest you think out loud again."

"I just said...taxi driver."

Those eyes of his narrowed again. "Didn't anyone tell you not to listen in on a strangers conversation?"

I casually shifted my shoulder, not liking his tone of voice. "Well, you shouldn't be talking so loud in the street. It is public domain you know."

The older man cleared his throat. "I apologize, that riddle's been bugging him all day." He shifted his walking cane to his other hand, extending it to me. "I'm John Watson."

I smiled and extended my hand. "Tammy Taylor." John Watson was a good looking, mature man. "This is Sherlock Holmes."

I turned to him and lied smoothly, feeling no guilt. "I'm pleased to meet you."

The moment our fingers met, I felt a spark between us. But I shrugged it off, I'd deduced a long time ago that I fell in love to easily and I'd never find 'Mr. Right' in my lifetime, so I'd sworn off of men and marriage. And don't get me started on love! Love was for the fools and the weak. And I was right, at least, I'd started to reconsider the moment Sherlock Holmes touched my hand.

"Don't lie, it's never good to lie to a person you don't know." He stated as he examined my hand, his eyes narrowed. "You're enjoying your return to London, I trust?" Sherlock suddenly stated out of the blue.

I nodded, wondering how he knew that. "You could say that."

"Indeed. You were born and raised here for a good portion of your life." He stated, speaking swiftly without blinking. "Judging by the sticker on your clutch purse, you arrived here yesterday morning. You lived in New York City for five years before returning here." I feared my eyes were bulging out of my sockets as he continued speaking. "You're an excessive reader; it's a wonder you don't need glasses by now. You must have known the owner of the nightclub you're working at; otherwise you wouldn't have given up your job in a wine factory. Maybe you hated your job or maybe you decided to have a taste of something different. Your clothes are the latest fashion in America; your job paid well, anyone can see you have expensive taste." He glanced down at my hand. "You recently broke off your engagement to your fiancée, he was cheating on you."

At this point, I couldn't say a word; I was so shocked that he knew practically everything about me that I stopped listening to him. A pain had flashed in my heart at the painful reminded of Robert's betrayal. I'd walked into his office to find him satisfying my best friend, Cynthia, on his desk. I remembered the look on his face as he realized he'd forgotten to lock the door. I didn't need to say anything, the instant I saw him, I realized what a fool I'd been making of myself. I'd tricked myself into believing he really loved me, but my father's passing had blinded me. I'd thrown the ring at his head without a word and left without a single look back.

I'd arrived home, opened my computer to be welcomed with a desktop of the London Eye. Four hours later, I'd found myself on the plane headed out to London. My lawyer had contacted and old friend of his and she'd found accommodations for me. I didn't think twice, it was the right thing to do, I just knew it. I hadn't even cried over Robert which told me that I wasn't deeply in love with him. Being wealthy had it's pro's, I paid the rent for the flat a year in advance and asked that the walls be painted a certain shade of forest green. The landlady, a sweet lady, had agreed, as long as I paid for it.

I loved green; it especially would look good with all my books I'd inherited from my father. Deep green, painted walls and the cherry wood bookshelves made any reading room perfect. I wished that I could be really upset about my father's recent death, but a part of me was happy. Father had never been the same since mother died and it comforted me to know that he was now with her. They'd loved each other deeply, and he'd been inconsolable when she'd passed away. They were together now, and nothing could ever separate them again. It was a beautiful picture for my mind; it helped me come to terms with the grief. However, I did feel guilt that I was able to accept his death so easily.

"Sherlock." John said, his tone reminding him to be more tactfully. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right." I shook my head, pulling my hand out of his grasp. Truth to be told, I don't know why we were still holding hands. "That was…impressive. How…did you know all that?"

"I didn't know, I saw."

"So then tell me…what color underwear am I wearing?" The look on both men's faces was priceless. I couldn't believe I'd just said that to two men I didn't know, but then again, what else was I to say to the guy? He was being a total pain! "And then once you figure it out, I'll tell you what you missed in my private life. Don't worry, you got most of it right, you just missed a few things." With that, I turned on my heel and moved towards the nearest restaurant across Northumberland Street.

"Well," John said to Sherlock. "was that something people normally say?"

"No." The nearness of their voices and a quick look behind me, showed that they were following me into the same restaurant. I did hold the door open for John, but let it close on Sherlock. He gave me a small glare, catching the door with a bit of a huff. The waiter immediately directed them into the nearest booth. "Thank you Billy."

I moved towards my own seat, draping my coat behind it, then I removed my scarf. "Tammy?" I was preparing to sit down, but I then turned around to acknowledge John. "Would you care to join us?"

Sherlock glowered at John. "I'm certain she wouldn't care to join us."

No, I really didn't care to join them, but Sherlock irked me so much that I wasn't about to let him have the last word. Besides, John would prove to be pleasant company. "I'd be delighted," I shot Sherlock a pointed look. "it beats eating alone."

He shifted in his seat and looked out the window. John allowed me to scoot in the booth, putting me between the two men. Sherlock's cool eyes told me that I was going to be in for an interesting evening.

And it was.

Angelo was over-friendly; he couldn't decide if John or I was Sherlock's date. We both stated that they weren't his date but he didn't seem to get the hint. Sherlock didn't say much so I spent most of my time talking to John. We talked about the weather and all sorts of things going on in London. I kept my personal business and residence to myself. Sherlock dropped a few words here and there. He'd occasionally catch something in my conversation and add it to his observations about me.

When I found out that Sherlock was a consulting detective, I was relieved, for that meant that he wasn't some kind of mind reader. I'd never heard of a consulting detective. I guessed that he didn't like to work like most people so he invented a job to suit his needs. If he wasn't so irritating, I'd have asked him to help find my older brother, but then I'd have to put up with him. Besides, Johnny had vanished at age nineteen when mother died. He was my mother's naturally born son from a previous marriage. He never warmed up to father and refused to acknowledge him as his father. But he got along with me; he was wonderful to me. Defended me whenever I needed help. I think he loved being seen as my rescuer, I idolized him, and he crushed my soul when he'd disappeared. Nobody could find him, he never turned up and everyone was assumed dead.

Besides, Sherlock pointed out to john that he didn't have a boyfriend, girlfriend and basically said that relationships were a waste of time. If I wanted to find Johnny, I'd prefer the man looking for him was a family man, so he could relate to my feelings. Sherlock, didn't think about what he was going to say before speaking, so he spoke words that hurt.

I was tired, and a glance at my watch showed that it was getting a little late and I still had work to do in my flat. "I've got to get going, I've got a lot of work to do at my apartment. And I'm certain you two have got somewhere to be."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "Look across the street, taxi, stopped. Nobody getting in, nobody getting out." I spun around to look behind me and sure enough, a taxi was just sitting there. I frowned, vexed to be getting drawn into the rather curious atmosphere. "Oh, that's clever. Is it clever, why is it clever?" I smirked and rolled my eyes at Sherlock answering himself. Oh, everything about him was funny, even when he wasn't trying to be.

"That's him?" John asked.

"Don't stare." He said.

"You're staring." I pointed out.

"Well, all three of us can't stare." He grabbed his coat and got up.

John followed his example and I glanced at Billy. "May I have my check please?"

"Oh no," he said. "Angelo said your meal was on the house tonight."

That's kind of him, please tell him thank you." A loud honking and thud from outside caused me to whip around to see Sherlock bounce off the roof of a moving car! I gasped and bolted, dropping my purse. "Oh my gosh!" I ran out, expecting to see him on the ground, but I soon realized that he'd recovered and he was now, running down the street with John behind him.

The taxi was out of sight and he was mumbling something about the traffic route. Then he took off with John behind him. Curiosity overwhelmed me and I followed after them in hot pursuit.


	2. 2: Meeting again

Chapter Two

Meeting Again

They went into a building, up stairs, then up more winding stairs, and onto the roof. I stupidly followed their example and vaulted over the metal fence to the roof below. A pain exploded sharply in my ankle and my foot crumbled beneath me for a second. I didn't turn my ankle fortunately, but the pain was sharp enough to bring me to my senses.

"Wait a minute." I gasped out. "What am I doing?"

"Come on John." Sherlock called from far away. "We're loosing him!"

I limped around the corner and peered around it just in time to see John leap over the end of the roof. I shook my head in dismay as he took off. I stood there, coming to terms that my part of the chase was over. I watched their retreating shadows before a violent coughing fit seized me. It was then I became aware of my pounding heart, icy cold throat and each breath was as if a knife embedded deep inside my lungs.

My mind screamed at me. _Here I am, chasing after two men, chasing a man in a taxi. I don't know either man well enough to go chasing after them! And, I'm running after them in heels! It's a wonder I didn't break my neck or ankle._

By now, I really couldn't breathe properly; I reached for my purse, to realize I'd left it on the floor in the restaurant. It had my inhaler and now I was forced to regain control over my breathing the hard way. I leaned against the brick wall, covered my mouth and tried to breathe deeply. I had the misfortune to be born with asthma and I was allergic to cold air. I kid you not; I am allergic to cold air.

So I concentrated on reciting the lyrics to 'Sunday in the park with George' in my head, focusing on Bernadette Peter's face in my mind instead of struggling to get my next breath. It took several long moments for me to begin breathing normally. I then moved slowly to get off the roof, carefully climbing down the stairs and making the trek back to the restaurant to get my purse, coughing all the way. It sounded like I was coughing to 'Jingle Bells' and I don't like that song! I dislike most songs that people sing way too often. I prefer singing songs that most people aren't familiar with.

Angelo was putting on his coat and he had John's cane in hand. "Oh, there you are Miss!" He said to me. "You left your purse and scarf here, I was going to give it them to Sherlock."

"I'm glad you didn't," my voice was raspy and I sounded as if I'd just escaped being strangled. "I don't know the man from Adam."

Angelo laughed. "You had dinner with him."

"He treated me to dinner because I solved a riddle for him," I coughed behind my hand. "and he didn't like it."

Angelo frowned. "Are you ok?"

I nodded and reached for my purse to find my inhaler. "I'm allergic to cold air." His brows rose in surprise as I inhaled deeply. "I'm afraid all that running didn't do any wonders for me."

"Can I get your anything?"

I shook my head. "No thank you. I'll just buy a cocoa or something warm and drink once I'm home." I wrapped my scarf around my mouth. "I'll be fine, thank you."

"All right Missy." His phone sang out with Dean Martin's 'That's Amore', signaling that he'd gotten a text. "Got to go. Sherlock's getting a little antsy."

"Just tell them that it was fun while it lasted. I sincerely doubt I'll be seeing either of them again."

He laughed. "You never know."

I merely smiled and exited behind him. It was a small walk back to Baker Street and I found myself casually looking around for Sherlock or John. My cough fortunately subsided when I entered pushed the door open to my new flat on Baker Street. As I took off my scarf, I heard a lot of noise and people loudly talking in the flat above. "Mrs. Hudson?" I called.

"Yes dear?" I turned to see her standing at the top of the stairs. She was such a sweet woman. The kind of landlady everyone wished they had, but couldn't find.

"What's going on?" I asked as I walked up the stairs towards her. "Is everything all right?"

"I don't know." She said with a shrug of her shoulder. "Sherlock's done something."

I paused, hoping against hope; it couldn't be the same man. "Sherlock?" My heart stopped. Sherlock wasn't a common name, in fact Sherlock Holmes, was the first man I'd heard with that name.

"Yes. He's a nice young man."

I exhaled in relief. "Oh, then it couldn't be the same man then."

"Oh?" Mrs. Hudson said. "Did you meet someone then named Sherlock tonight?"

"Yes." I wrinkled my nose, coughing again. "He was a consulting detective, quite a show off. He had a friend, John Watson, he was very nice, made up for Sherlock's lack of manners."

"Oh then you did met. Sherlock Holmes! He lives one flat below you."

My heart stopped in my chest. "No way." I groaned and shook my head. "I'll have to see it to believe it." Mrs. Hudson didn't follow me, because the front doorbell rang and she went to answer it. My heart pounded in her chest as I peered inside the door to find Sherlock, John and several police officers in the flat. I moaned and sank against the door in disbelief. "I can't believe it."

I coughed and everyone looked in my direction. Sherlock shot a dark scowl at me. "What are _you_ doing here!?"

"At the moment I am hoping that this is a bad dream from which I'm about to wake up from. What are _you _doing here?" I coughed again. "Excuse me."

"Are you ok?" John asked, stepping towards me. "We did take off without a thought of consideration for you. And you're wearing heels!"

"Don't know why." Sherlock mumbled. "She's tall enough as is."

"They almost make me your level." I shot back at him. "And that's worth it."

"Whose this?" Another man asked.

"Inspector Lestrade, this is Tammy Taylor." John stated. "She was the one who helped Sherlock realize that the murderer is a taxi driver."

Sherlock glowered and all eyes went to him. "She did?" A female officer laughed. She had an annoying accent. It sounded snooty, but then, maybe that was her whole demeanor. "What's this then? Sherlock got a girl no one knows about?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter Sally." Sherlock said. "I only met the girl today."

I focused on the Inspector; he was a kind faced man. "I'm pleased to meet you." I shook his offered hand.

"Mutual." He cleared his throat. "Pardon our reactions, but Sherlock's just been surprising us today."

"That I believe." I said. "He's a royal pain then isn't he?"

"First, he shows up with Watson as his colleague and now you're on the scene."

"Well, I wouldn't have met him prior to this if he knew how to keep his voice down in public."

John spoke up. "Tammy, this is Sergeant Sally Donovan."

"And she solvin' cases with you? First you get a colleague, now, you got a girl with you!" Sally looked at him with disdain. "For your sake, I suggest you find someone else to date."

"Why don't you mind your own business?" I snapped at her. Now, ordinarily I wouldn't have said anything. But I was cold, my feet were killing me and I really didn't like the woman. "He's all ready stated that we only just met today and the man's telling the truth." Everyone stared at me in surprise, well, everyone except Sherlock. He was 'reading' me again. "I for one find your cold, rude and condescending tone of voice towards someone you don't even know objectionable. Also, Mr. Holmes is in the room, and considering you're in his flat, you should keep your opinions to yourself until you're out of his territory. Besides, if I were to marry a man Sherlock Holmes would be the _last _man on earth that I could ever be prevailed upon to marry!"

My little rant set off a cough fit and I groaned in aggravation. "John, she needs something warm to drink." Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "You're allergic to cold air and stress aggravates the condition."

"I'm not going to ask how you knew that." I stated. "But you're still missing a huge part of my life and when you find out, you get to solve the case. If you can figure it out."

"Pink?"

I flushed and scowled at him. "No, and you're not tricking it out of me either."

Sherlock shoved his hands in his pockets and smirked at me. "What makes you think I haven't done that all ready?"

"Because if I had, you'd have spoken up about it long ago. As I've observed, when you're on a roll about something, you can't be shut up." He blinked and Inspector Lestrade's mouth was open slightly. "It doesn't take an average brain to figure that out."

"Actually I did know." I glowered at him. "I glanced back at you when you vaulted over the fence before giving up the chase." My face heated more as he stepped towards me, his eyes boring straight into me. "Pink, with light pink polka dots, am I wrong?"

I wasn't going to answer him. I was not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd got it right. So I simply shook my head. "Close, but no cheeseburger."

For a long moment we stood there, staring at each other. I was attempting to read him as he was reading me. John spoke up. "Is there something here I'm missing?"

"No, John." Sherlock said. "Tammy appears to have a different side to her, that's all. And I shall enjoy, discovering it."

"If I didn't know any better," I said slowly. " I'd say you were flirting with me. But, since you and I have both sworn off relationships, It'll be fun to swap barbs with you…Mr. Darcy."

He frowned. "I sincerely doubt that things have taken that great a turn. Besides, Jane Austen's work, is highly insignificant in regards to relationships."

"And that's why almost every single woman in the world has read her work. "I shake my head. "Face it Mr. Holmes. Jane Austen is every woman's inspiration and even men look to her work for wisdom."

Mrs. Hudson called up the stairs. "Tammy?"

"Yes, Mrs. Hudson?"

"It's men with a bunch of boxes for you."

I clapped my hands in delight. "Wonderful! The paint should be dry by now! Now I can go put all my books up in the bookshelves."

"Told you she was an avid reader." Sherlock pointed out.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm a _collector. _My father bought me many books when I turned fifteen. Several hundred are first editions and extremely rare. I've even got an autographed copy of 'A Christmas Carol,' with Charles Dicken's actual autograph. You were close when you said avid reader Sherlock, but some books are best left behind enclosed glass."

Sherlock glowered. "Ten to one the book is a fake."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "You'll never know. If you even breathe on the book, I shall have to kill you immediately and without hesitation."

He rolled his eyes, as if he were talking to a child. "That would be a huge accomplishment on your part."

"I was thinking the same about you. Just because you're good at deducing, doesn't mean you know everything." That remark, clearly left him insulted. I walked proudly out of the room, determined to read up on Pride and Prejudice and have every witty comment Jane Austen had ever written at my disposal.


	3. 3: Mind games in the kitchen

Chapter Three

Mind games in the kitchen

* * *

_A week later,_

* * *

"Sherlock? Is everything all right?"

Now, I'd been hearing grunting and clattering in the apartment since I knocked on the door a minute ago. Finally, my curiosity just couldn't be controlled anymore and I pushed the door open, just as Sherlock fell back on the couch. A man in full Middle Eastern garb stood over him with a sword, drawn back to strike Sherlock!

"SHERLOCK!" I screamed loudly, dropping the Pyrex food case.

The man with the sword looked up at me, giving Sherlock the advantage of kicking him in the stomach sending him backwards! Sherlock stood up, tugging his coat properly back into place. If he weren't in danger, I would have laughed at him. Like, who else _but_ Sherlock, would think about their appearance when they were about to get their head chopped off and their body sliced into multiple, tiny pieces?

"Thank you!" He stated before lunging at the man.

I stared at him, watching them grapple for a moment before shaking my head. Why was I just standing there?! I flew into action the moment the man had Sherlock pinned on the kitchen table with the sword pressed to his throat! I immediately went into action and lunged for the little lamp by John's chair and was just about to swing it when the man came flying backwards at me!

I shrieked and side stepped him, but the sword nicked my forehead. I let out a yowl and swung the lamp at him, I missed his face, but caught his arm. Unfortunately, the man was right-handed and I hit his left arm. The man let out a growl and swung his sword at me!

"Sherlock!" I screamed as I had the sense to do a shoulder roll as the sword came swinging towards me. I was in a crouched position, looking up at the man as he came at me again, but Sherlock intervened this time. The man swung the sword at Sherlock and I held my breath, my heart jumping with each swoop.

"LOOK!" Sherlock shouted. The man looked towards where Sherlock pointed, just as Sherlock planned, with one punch, the man was unconscious on the couch. Sherlock began straightening his coat and fixing his lapels just right.

"Right." I exhaled as I drop my weight onto my knees. "What…the heck…did I walk into?"

He turned and frowned at me. "Unusual word choice, most people would say Hell."

"Well, I don't feel like saying H-E double, hockey sticks." Sherlock tilted his head to the side and I waved my hand at him. "Fine, don't worry about me. Just….let me sit on the floor while you preen with your appearance."

"I do not." He stated indignantly. "And you can get up on your own."

"I'm certain I can…in five minutes," I lay flat on my back, looking up at the ceiling. "you preening peacock!"

"That was a judo roll you did just now." He said. "You're more that capable of rolling back up!"

"I never took any form of martial arts in my life. It was part of my gym exercise program."

He studied me and pulled me up with one hand. "Like you need to go to the gym."

"Nice to know that my physical features are pleasing to you."

"No." He said, his eyes studying me at close range before stepping towards the kitchen. "I just observed that you're simply the proper weight for your height."

"What about your weight?"

"I am slightly underweight, but then I do lead a very active life."

"Don't tell John that, he'll never recover from the shock."

"A life that is equally physically and mentally taxing."

I groaned. "Why do I bother asking you some questions? The answers are always so obvious."

He stepped towards me. "Because you're a talker, not an observer."

"Ahh, the opposites attract game?"

"Not really."

"If you think about it, I really am your better half." I teased. "You observe but don't talk." He pressed something cold and wet on my forehead, causing me to jump. "What is that?"

"You're bleeding."

"Oh. I'd forgotten. Is it bad?"

"You'll live." I nodded as he methodically wiped the blood that had trickled down my face. His fingers were long, so his thumb kept brushing my cheek. Against my will, his gentle touch kept causing me to shiver. _What is the matter with me? This is Sherlock! These feelings….I shouldn't even be having them. It's just…yuck! _I hoped that he couldn't observe my struggle to control my emotions. "Your pupils are dilated."

"It stings." I half snapped at him, vexed that he was reading me all ready. "I did just get cut you know."

"Really?" His eyes danced in amusement at my immediate protest. "Me thinks," he ran his hand down my cheek. It caused me to start at the gesture and the look on his face told me that he was 'experimenting' to see if I'd react to him. "the lady doth protest too much."

I knew Sherlock was teasing me. He wanted a reaction out of me, and I wasn't going to give him one. "Well, if you're expecting me to be attracted to you, you'd be wrong Sherlock." I ran my finger down his forehead to the tip of his nose slowly; his eyes followed my finger, causing me to laugh. "But I must admit I love teasing you."

He laughed tightly and stepped away from me. He turned to where his unconscious assailant was beginning to stir. "Ahh, excuse me."

"We've really got to stop playing these mind games." I said. "I can't take it much more."

"Oh, but they're such fun." He said sarcastically as he picked up the sword and pointed it at the man. "You dropped that food case by the door."

"Right!" I snapped my finger and went to pick up the discarded case. "I got to feeling so sorry for you and John and thought I'd bring you two down something. From now on, I'll call before coming down."

"Advisable." I picked up the case and examined it for cracks. Sherlock then chased the man out of the room, shouting at him in some foreign language, obviously threatening him. I rolled by eyes as Sherlock laughed at the man stumbled out of the room. He closed the door and looked at the glassware I had in my hand, his eyes narrowed. "What is that?"

"You're the detective, I'm the cook, start deducing."

He frowned. "I would have said macaroni and cheese, but it's all cheese and no macaroni."

I wrinkled my nose in distaste. "Funny. You'll see I make the best macaroni and cheese in the world!" I entered the kitchen, surveyed it, and it was a huge mess. "When was the last time you guys cleaned this place? Never mind! Why am I asking?" I exhaled dramatically. "You're men! And between the two of you, I'd say John is the only one who actually cleans."

"Sound deduction. Now, are you leaving?"

"Never." I began taking off my jacket and rolling up my sleeves. "I'll have nightmares about this place if I leave it in this state."

"What are you…you're _not _cleaning this room!" He stated loudly. "I have everything in the perfect place."

"Try and stop me." I knelt and peered under the sink looking for cleaning supplies. Upon finding them, I began pulling them out. "I don't even know where to begin."

"How about by leaving?" He bit out. "I don't want any of my stuff messed with!"

I ignored him and opened the refrigerator to place my macaroni and cheese inside, when a foul smell smacked me in the face. I made a face and began pulling out the food, checking the expiration dates. Sherlock began objecting as I started throwing them away. "You're throwing food out!"

"A sound observation." I said drolly, attempting to impersonate him. "You should become a consoulting detective. Oh wait, you are one. My mistake."

"Ohh," he growled. "Tammy this is my flat-

"Yours and John's."

"It's not yours!"

"John wouldn't mind."

"How do you know?"

"Because, John and I think on similar brain waves, yours is far more superior than ours, remember? Or did you happen to delete that information?"

I needed to tune him out. Fortunately, I'd been planning to go to the gym, so I'd clipped my MP3 player, with speaker, to my belt hook. So I turned it on and seconds later, music by Vivaldi, the last artist I'd been listening to, filled the kitchen. I began humming along to the music and continued with my assault on the kitchen.

"Classic music lover?" He said, grabbing a hold of my MP3 player and began skimming through it. "Quite unusual for a cabaret owner and singer. You're a Sondheim fan? Unusual, I had you figured for the Webber type."

"I _used_ to be a huge Webber fan, but Sondheim is pure genius. Webber is overrated; all he can do is the music. Sondheim writes songs that you can connect to emotionally, Webber's are something out of a fairy tale."

"And you _used _to be a fan, I shudder to think of what you'd be if you weren't a fan."

"Just as nasty. But anyway, you and John should come down and see my show." I tied my long hair back out of my face. "I open in four days time, you guys probably won't see much of me after then."

"We'll be busy, and as for not seeing you in that time, I don't know if that's a blessing or a curse."

"Why am I not surprised at that? I'll stock your fridge. Oh gross." There was a block of cheddar cheese, which had molded and then frozen in the back of the refrigerator. "This is disgusting."

I saw a streak of something red on the wall and I couldn't decide if it was strawberry jelly or blood. My stomach churned slightly, on that thought entering my mind. "Then stop throwing food out and get back up to your apartment!" Sherlock ordered. "I didn't ask you to do this!"

"I will….later. Go sit down and read a magazine or something. Better yet," I pointed in the living room. "straighten up the room before John suspects you actually did leave your chair this morning!"

Sherlock mumbled under his breath and I laughed lightly. I honestly wished that I could really get mad at him, but Sherlock, even on his worst days, was quite amusing, no matter how cross he tried to act. He let me clean in peace, occasionally telling me that I was using too many chemicals or that I'd missed a spot.

Ten minutes later, John came back to see that I'd just finished mopping the floor and I was now actually daring to dust the living room with Sherlock boring a hole into my back. "Don't touch my skull!" He barked at me.

"Then pick it up and move it yourself Hamlet." I said. "Or I'll pick it up and dust under it myself, don't you dare step on the kitchen floor John!"

John shook his head with admiration. "And I thought I had trouble."

"Trouble?"

"I had a row with the chip and pin machine."

"I hate those things. I completely sympathize." I picked up the skull and dusted under it, thanking God that Sherlock wasn't give any of Superman's vision powers. I'd have been disintegrated by now.

"I said, don't touch my-

"John," I ignored Sherlock completely. "you two don't have to buy dinner tonight. I'm stocking up my freezer with homemade dinners. I made a casserole for you two. Upon cleaning out your refrigerator, I should bring some of my casseroles down and replenish it."

"We don't even know if you can cook good."

"Thank you." John interjected. "That's kind of you, but you don't have to."

"No problem. You're missing a few essentials though."

John pointed out. "You're bleeding."

I shrugged. "Cut myself, I'm fine."

John frowned. "How'd you do that?"

Sherlock bolted upright and out of his chair. "I need to go to the bank. John."

"Right." John exhaled. "I'll see you later. You don't need to do this Tammy."

"I know, I don't need to, but I want to."

"John!" Sherlock called. "Tammy, it's time for you to go."

I shook my head. "I can't leave yet. This place is a mess!"

"I've got to lock up."

John handed me his key. "Here." Sherlock shot him a glare. "What?"

"Why not just give her, her own key to _our_ flat," he bites out. "so she can come and go as she pleases?"

"I all ready do that so it would be nice to have a key. Thank you John, now, both of you go on, nothing's going to happen to me between now and then…I hope."

Sherlock glowered at me. "If I find one, piece of paper out of place…you will rue the moment…you touched it!"

I shrugged. "I all ready cursed the day I met you, so, ruing the moment I put a piece of paper out of order will seem inconsequential. Get out!"

Sherlock stared me down and I crossed my arms over my chest and matched him back glare for glare. My MP3 player switched to Sara Bareilles 'Fairytale,' perfect for the moment.

John cleared his throat. "The bank Sherlock?"

"Right." He said. "Let's go."

I called after them. "What time can I expect you?"

"Would you prefer to know that before or after I decide to kill you?" Sherlock called.

I laughed. "Before, definitely, I'll have all evening to decide how I'll return to this earth and haunt you! I'll clean your apartment until it sparkles and then you can't dispose of me!"

"Oh stop it," John said. "you two don't mean half of what you say to each other anyway. He really appreciates it Tammy."

"I know."

"No, I don't." Sherlock said. "And how do you know that we don't mean what we say to each other?"

"I just know, let's go." John exhaled and moved towards the stairs with Sherlock in tow. "Honestly Sherlock, Tammy is terrific."

"Then marry her and get her out of my hair."

"I don't think of her like that." John said as he trotted down the stairs. "She's better for you."

"God, what a horrible thought!"

"No, think about it! She's the only person who stands up to you."

"John, the idea of me having feelings for Tammy Taylor is positively revolting!"

For once I agreed with Sherlock, that truly, was a revolting thought.


	4. 4: I knew you were trouble

Chapter Four

I knew you were trouble

The next three days I was so busy that I didn't get to see Sherlock or John during that time. Between ordering new chair cushions, tablecloths, redoing the décor, I'd slept overnight at the club. Tonight, I climbed the steps to my apartment to take a shower, change into some comfortable clothes and relax for the remaining hours I had left. I walked up the steps to find three pieces of paper, pinned to my door, with complaints from Sherlock on it. At the end, he demanded my number so he could text me when he had a question. He claimed that he couldn't find certain things that I hadn't touched. I rolled my eyes, just what I always wanted, Sherlock Holmes having my cell phone number. I could just imagine the wonderful days of peace and happiness!

Sherlock was great for a laugh, but I had work to do. I heard John and Sherlock talking in their flat and decided to pop in and tell him that his bossing me around isn't going to work.

I tapped on the door and John called. "Come in."

I waltzed in. "Hello!"

Sherlock glowered. "There you are!"

"Don't bother asking Sherlock." I throw the papers at him. "I didn't even bother reading it." I notice that they're all swamped with stacks of books. "What's going on?"

Nothing that concerns you." Sherlock said rudely before turning to John. "re going out tonight."

John smiles smugly. "ve, er, got a date."

Sherlock stares at him in surprise. "What?"

"It's where two people who like each other go out and have fun."

"That's what _I_ was suggesting." Sherlock says with a pout.

"No it wasn't," John says with a straight face. "at least I _hope_ not."

Where are you taking her?"

"Cinema."

Oh, dull, boring, predictable." He takes a piece of paper from his trouser pocket as he walks across to John, and hands it to him. "Why don't you try this?" John takes it and looks at the piece of paper._ "_In London for one night only."

John chuckles, then offers the paper back to Sherlock. "Thanks, but I don't come to you for dating advice."

John turns and walks away, leaving the paper on top of a pile of books. I examine it. It's an advertisement for a Yellow Dragon Circus. I look up at Sherlock, he's studying me. "So, does this have to do with a case?"

He shrugs. "Maybe."

I exhale. "I've got a few hours to kick off. My act doesn't begin until 11:00, so I could help you out."

Sherlock shrugs. "Fine. Be ready to go in two hours. Make sure your face or whatnot is ready at that time."

I glower at him. "I don't need to do anything to my face. I'm helping you investigate, so it's _not _a date."

* * *

Two hours later, I make my way down the stairs to find Sherlock waiting for me. He studies me for a moment before replying. "You certainly don't dress up do you?"

"It's not a date."

"That doesn't matter."

"It does to me, and if we did have a date, which I know for a fact we won't, I'd wear something that would make your eyes pop out of your head."

"What I mean is you're wearing a skirt you've had for eight years and a shirt you've worn for five years. Regardless of who you're going out with, you want to at least wear something nice."

"And you're wearing the same dark, purple shirt you've worn since the day I met you! I'm helping you out so John can enjoy his date in peace. I'm dressed comfortably, so just deal with it!"

We finally decided to stop talking to each other for the taxi ride there. Sherlock promptly went inside, leaving me to pay the Cabbie driver. I enter to find Sherlock and John in a dark corner, arguing. I stare, John actually did take Sherlock's dating advice! But if John was here, what was I doing here?

"You couldn't let me have just one night off?"

Yellow Dragon Circus, in London for one day. It fits-

John cuts him off. "Dressed as a tightrope walker. Come on, Sherlock, behave!"

"We're looking for a killer who can climb, who can shin up a rope. Where else would you find that level of dexterity?"

I stand beside Sherlock and John blinks in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

I shrug as Sherlock continues talking. "Exit visas are scarce in China. They need a pretty good reason to get out of that country. Now, all I need to do is have a quick look round the place.

"Fine." John says. "You do that. I'm gonna take Sarah for a pint."

Sherlock sternly reprimands him. "I need your help."

"I do have a couple of other things on my mind this evening!"

Like what?"

John blinks, staring at him in disbelief. " You are kidding."

I glance at Sherlock's face and shake my head. "I don't think he is."

"What's so important?"

"Sherlock, I'm right in the middle of a date."

"What am I here for?" I ask.

Sherlock shrugs. "Oh, you'd be bored waiting up in your flat for 10:00 to come. Besides, I need John, not you."

"Do you want me to chase some killer while I'm trying to-

breaks off and Sherlock glowers at him. "What?"

his patience and talks much louder. "While I'm trying to get off with Sarah!" A woman, I assume is Sarah, comes around the corner. John turns to her and smiles awkwardly. "Heeyy."

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock turns and heads up the stairs. He grabs my arm and tugs me with him. "Ridiculous."

"I must be." I mutter. "I still haven't run for the hills!"

He glowers at me, but doesn't release my arm. I almost wrench it free, but it feels natural...in an irritatingly way. We enter a large room with a stage floor. Sherlock beings taking in the sight of the room.

You said circus." John says quietly with distaste. "This is not a circus. Look at the size of this crowd. Sherlock, this is... art."

Sherlock hisses quietly over his shoulder to John. "This is not their day job."

"No, sorry, I forgot." John snips. "They're not a circus; they're a gang of international smugglers.

"Can we all just be quiet?" I hiss. "There's a time and a place for this later."

The performance begins with someone tapping out a rhythm on a tiny hand drum. An costumed Chinese woman with a heavily painted face, walks into the center of the stage. She's got a cold look about her, her movements are stiff and expressionless as raises a hand into the air. She then moves towards a large object covered with a cloth which she pulls back to reveal a large, antique crossbow on a stand. She picks up a long wooden arrow with sharp metal point at the other end. She shows it to the audience before fitting it into place in the crossbow. She then pulls a single feather from her headdress before dropping the feather into a metal cup onto the crossbow. Instantly the arrow is released and whizzes across the room. Sherlock's head whips around to follow its flight and moments later, the arrow is embedded in a large painted board on the other side of the circle.

Everyone jumps, well, except Sherlock and I. I twitch, but don't jump. The instrumental music begins again, and the audience applauds as a new character enters the circle, wearing chainmail and an ornate head mask. Two men come over, start to attach chains and straps to him, then backing him up against the board and starting to chain him to it.

"Classic Chinese escapology act." Sherlock says softly. "The crossbow's on a delicate string. The warrior has to escape his bonds before it fires."

"Obvious." I whisper. "But what's not obvious is why people think of stupid things like this. What if it's timed wrong?"

"Then we're going to be witnesses to a death."

The music begins building in intensity and cymbals crash unexpectedly. Sarah jumps, clutching at John's arm. "Oh, God, I'm sorry!

She laughs in embarrassment, but doesn't release his arm with her other hand as well. The woman picks up a small knife and displays it to the audience. Sherlock, again, has to display his knowledge. "She splits the sandbag; the sand pours out; gradually the weight lowers into the bowl."

"Do you ever shut up?" I ask.

He doesn't answer me. The woman does exactly as Sherlock predicts. After watching the show for a few moments, he moves away and I follow him. He glowers at me. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know." I look down at our still clasped hands. "You tell me!"

Sherlock releases my hand instantly. "Don't do that again."

"You started it!" I hiss and take off after him as we head backstage. I seem to be always following this man into all sorts of trouble.

Sherlock makes his way to performers' dressing room, which is hidden directly behind the stage. There's a dressing table with mirrors, free-standing clothes rails and many other items all around. He looks around and I stand behind him, looking around for anything out of place. I'm not sure what we're even looking for! I begin to investigate the drawers when Sherlock peers behind the curtains. "Well, well."

A door opens and Sherlock and I run to take cover behind the clothes rack. He pushes the clothes around us and steadies me around the waist. My heart pounds in my throat as we wait. I can see the cold faced woman from the stage is in the room now. She goes over to the dressing table and picks up her phone, checking it. A hangar falls to the floor and Sherlock ducks down. I hold my breath as he looks straight into my eyes. Our faces are literally three inches away, if either of us had moved any closer, we would have kissed. Sherlock places a finger over my mouth, signaling for me to be quiet, but it only serves to cause my heart rate to spike for some stupid reason.

The woman must have decided that there was nothing amiss, for she soon leaves. After a few moments, I stand up and peer cautiously over the clothes rack. Sherlock looks down at bag on the floor near his feet, he flips it open to reveal several spray cans inside. He picks up one of them and then sings softly. "Found you."

Standing up, he pushes through the clothes and walks over to the mirrors on the dressing table, shaking up the can as he goes. He bends down and sprays a single almost-horizontal yellow line across one of the mirrors. I frown. " And...what are we doing?"

Then, a warrior costume behind us starts to move. I spin around and let out a shriek as the man inside the costume charges forward. He begins lashing out at Sherlock with a large knife, Sherlock ducks backwards to avoid the blows. Sherlock uses the can as a weapon, using it to block a blow from the warrior. I look around for a weapon of sorts, but there is nothing for me to grab onto except for a chair.

I reach for it as the warrior grabs Sherlock by the throat, fortuneately he drops his knife in the process. Sherlock lashes then sprays the can directly into his masked face before shoving him away firmly. The warrior falls onto his back but immediately flips to his feet. He takes a flying leap at Sherlock, his feet hitting sherlock in the chest sending sherlock backwards through the curtains, and onto the floor a few feet below.

"Sherlock!?" I shout. I look out of the curtain to see that he's landed on his back. He had the wind knocked out of him and can't move fast enough as the warrior comes flying out of the curtains and onto the floor in front of him. John is on the move straightaway, running towards the warrior as he raises a knife and prepares to plunge it downwards. John charges straight into him, pushing him back against the edge of the stage but the warrior sends John stumbling across the room.

No one in the audience bothers to help, they all flee. The warrior heads towards Sherlock who is still lying on the floor winded. As he raises the sword above his head, i do something totally radical. I jump onto the man's back, keeping an eye on the sharp sword in his hand. The man lets out a grunt as he then falls backwards, slamming me onto the ground. I let out a gasping cry as his weight slams me into the wood floor. I gasp for air as he rolls up, drawing the sword back to cut my head off. Sherlock kicks the man's feet out from under him, saving my life.

Sarah slams the handle end of a broom over the top of the warrior's head. He cries out in pain as she swings the broom sideways and smashes it across his ribs. She instantly delivers a second blow to the same area and he falls to the ground, grunting and almost unconscious.

Sherlock bends over me as I sit up, trying to breathe. "Calm down!" He orders firmly. "You won't be able to breathe until you calm down."

I cough and wave him aside. "I'm fine."

He turns towards the warrior's right foot, pulling off his shoe to reveal a tattoo on his heel. He studies the man for a second before sweeping me off my feet, and runs towards the exit. "Come on! Let's go!"


	5. 5: Sir Matthew Crawley

Chapter Five

Sir Matthew Crawley

My hands are shaking long after I've had my second shower for the day. The curtain is an hour away and I can't get my own body under control! I was close enough to kiss Sherlock Holmes, loose my life the next minute, then have him carry me out of there like I was a princess he was rescuing from a dragon.

I came down the steps to my flat to hear John and Sarah conversing. I draw my wrap around me tighter and knock on the door. "Come in Tammy." Sherlock barks on the other end of the door.

I smile uneasily and brush my hair back. "Hi. I'm heading out and I won't be available for a while."

"Your show doesn't begin for an hour." Sherlock points out. "You're just going to avoid me."

John speaks quickly to avoid another fight from breaking out. "You wearing your formal dress under there?"

"Yes." I glance at Sherlock. "Sherlock probably all ready knows what color it is."

"Judging by the lipstick, I'd say red."

"Right."

Sarah smiles. "Show us. John mentioned you're a nightclub performer."

"All right, but it's really the dress that looks good, not me." I pulled my coat back and spun around. It was a red halter dress. It was simple, except for the slit that almost went up to my thigh. "How do I look?"

John's eyebrows arched approvingly. "You look wonderful."

"Doesn't she look lovely Sherlock?" Sarah asks.

Sherlock glanced up at me once, then dropped his gaze. "She looks very fine." Coming from him, that was a compliment, and I caught him sneaking another glance at me from out of the corner of his eye. I must look good if Sherlock is sneaking looks at me.

I clear my throat and glance casually around the flat. "Still trying to find a book that everyone would own?"

"Yes." Sherlock said. "Now go away."

I ignore him. "Eighty years ago, I would have said the Bible, but not so many people read it that much now." I peered in the cases and glanced at a few books. "A dictionary-"

"No go." Sherlock said.

I continued as if he hadn't interrupted me. "Would be a possibility, but since it's a no go, as you put it, how about a phone book or something like that? Or the London A-Z?"

Sherlock stopped and his head shot up. He then bolted for his shelf and pulled it out, flipping the pages open. I must have been all right, for his grin got broader. "Yes!" He shouted. "John!"

"Ahh, no." He stated moving out of the room. "I've got a date and I intend to continue with it." He turns to Sarah. "Why don't we go to Tammy's club?"

Sarah smiles. "I think that sounds lovely."

"I'll stay here for a bit." I pulled out my phone, texting my assistant manager that I'd be late. "I'll help him for a while. My manager will meet you two personally, everything is on the house."

"Thanks!" John and Sarah hurry out of the flat before Sherlock can concoct an excuse.

Sherlock laughed mockingly. "You don't even know what's going on."

I unbuttoned my coat and leaned over his shoulder. "And I'm the one who cracked the book code. Nice try."

As I leaned over his shoulder he said. "Elizabeth Taylor's Gardenia."

"Yes, stop identifying my perfume, now, the code?"

I watched as he translated the code. "All right Riddler."

I stopped, my nose wrinkling in distaste. "The Riddler?"

"You like solving riddles."

"Thank you, but I'm not a big Batman fan. I don't even look like Frank Gorshin."

I stopped talking so Sherlock could have silence to decipher the code. "Nine mil. for jade pin. Dragon den, black tramway." He jumped up. "Right!" He grabbed his scarf. "Phone the yard, ask for Inspector Dimmock, send him to the tramway."

"Right." I reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "Be careful. Don't get hurt, these smugglers are dangerous." Sherlock stared at me for a moment and my actions dawned on me. I blushed, Sherlock appeared to have been affected by my peck on the cheek as well. To break up the awkwardness, I stated. "Your pupils dilated."

He shook his head. "No they aren't."

"Then, go catch those guys. I'll see you later." I smirked as I patted his shoulder. "Then you can tell me how you can see if your eyes are or aren't dilated."

"Right." That's when he did something…weird and wonderful. He gave me an awkward hug around the shoulder, catching her off guard. "Good luck." And with that, he dashed out of the room.

* * *

I was distracted; I was worried about Sherlock, dashing off to confront a gang of smugglers, hoping that the police were on their way there. In the states, it took forever to get a policeman out! What had gotten into me? Why had I kissed him on the cheek? It had just seemed like a natural impulse, and I obeyed it!

I'd sworn off of love, and here I was, obviously feeling something for Sherlock Holmes! Now, I don't know how, or when it started, frankly, it was too soon to have feelings for _any _man. I honestly had no business caring for him. He didn't have friends and he cared about no one. So, why would I be willingly resigning myself into a relationship that could only end in tears?

That's, when I saw Robert, my ex fiancé, standing in front of me. I was prepared to handle anything, but the shock of seeing him there almost knocked me flat. John and Sarah noticed my reaction, but no one else in the club did. What was he doing here? How did he find me? The audience clapped and whistled, bringing me back to earth. Robert stepped forward, holding a bouquet of roses. I hesitated for a moment before accepting them; I wasn't going to cause a scene on opening night.

I accepted them, asking through a clenched smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

I pulled away; smile intact, but my eyes were throwing knives at him. "Stay…away…from me!" He allowed me to step away from him and I hurried towards my dressing room. I opened the door and slammed it behind me. I threw the roses on a spare chair and groaned. The door opened and I whipped around to see Robert in the doorway. "Get out of here. Now!"

He closed the door behind me. "Tammy, let me explain!"

"I don't need to hear anymore lies!"

"Tammy, I was set up!"

"Ho? And I suppose what you were doing with her on the desk was…an accident?"

"Tammy, it was an accident."

"And you getting back into my life is going to be an accident as well!" I grabbed the roses; they shook angrily in my hands. "Take these…bribes and get the heck out of my life!"

Again, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. To my disgust, feelings started to stir within me. I pushed at his shoulders; there was a time when his kiss could have put whatever had been bothering me out of my mind. But now, for some reason, I felt as if I was betraying someone. The worst part of it is that, I felt the pain of betraying somebody who didn't really, even know that I existed. "Stop it." I snapped as I push at him. "I thought you at least would have the decency to stop forcing yourself on me."

He frowned at me. "It seems you were hurt more than I anticipated."

I rolled my eyes. "And what was your clue? Was it the fact that I was gone the next day or the ring that I threw at your head? How did you find me?"

"Your lawyer."

I groaned. "I should sue him."

"I swear, Cynthia set me up."

I rolled my eyes. "Please, I'm not an idiot. I was standing there a lot longer than you realized."

"Ask Cynthia."

"Ask Cynthia?" I glowered at him. "I terminated my friendship with her. Why on earth should I want to contact her?"

"It took me weeks to get her to agree to tell you the truth. Please," he begged. "just call her."

"No." I said firmly. "It may surprise you Robert, I didn't cry when we broke up. It hurt, but you just weren't worth crying over. Maybe that's a clue that I wasn't really in love with you. In fact, I'm certain now that I wasn't in love with you."

"What are you trying to say?" Robert asked. "What do you mean you're certain now?"

"I met someone else Robert. I met him the day I got off the plane and we've been inseparable since." The look of shock on his face was well worth the lie. I crossed my arms. "He's a good man. He's exceptionally clever and he's a very special man."

"You're lying." He ground out. "It took me months to get you to agree to go out on a date with me."

"That's because you're 'you' and you're clearly not him." I said. "He's a special man. In fact, we got along so well that we went out on a date the first day we met. I love him."

"You can't be in love with someone else in only a few week."

"No one tells the heart whom to love."

"Who is he?" Robert demanded.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please. Do you really expect me to tell you that? Honestly!"

"What does he do?"

"He's a consulting detective, and that's all I'm going to tell you." I don't know why I decided on using Sherlock as an example. Maybe it was because he and I had all these mind battles together, that now, after going up against Sherlock in a battle of the wits, Robert would be a pushover!

"You're making this up. I demand to see a photo of him."

"No. I'm not going to." I said. "I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of degrading him."

"Because you've made up this mystery man just to make me suffer!" He shouted. "I dare him to walk through that door."

To my complete shock, the door to my dressing room did open and Sherlock walked into the room. He walked towards me with a broad smile.

"Tammy, darling," he pulled me into his arms and kissed me on the cheek. I was shocked, but I played along with him. He must have been listening outside, for he had no other reason for such a performance. The case was solved, he didn't have anything else to do and he was bored. "you were marvelous." He breathed in my ear. "Play along."

"Gladly." I whispered back. "Thank you." I wrapped my arms around him, allowing Robert's roses to fall to the floor between us. "Oh Sherlock, I was so afraid you wouldn't make it."

He laughed lightly, running his hand down my cheek tenderly, as if he were my lover. "As if I'd miss your debut for anything in the world."

"Are you all right?" I stepped back and eyed him. For some reason, I thought I detected real affection in his eyes. "Did the smugglers get caught?"

"One got away, but let's not talk about that now." He tilted my chin up, his eyes dancing. "I missed you."

With that, he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me lightly on the lips! My heart jumped in my chest and I trembled at Sherlock's show of affection. While my head had caught on to the game, my heart wasn't playing along with, and ran my hand up his shoulders, running my fingers through his hair. He let out a groan, which I hoped was pleasure and not annoyance. Sherlock's hands had slid down my waist to my hips, pulling me closer towards him and he deepened the kiss. My face flushed as his fingers found the slit in my skirt. He squeezed my hip, causing a moan to come out of me.

"Are the two of you aware that I'm still in the room?" Robert shouted. "Tammy?!"

I pulled away, letting out a moan of disappointment. I'm afraid that I was staring at Sherlock like a love struck fool. He studied my face intently before turning towards Robert, who's face was turning red. His veins bulged and he had the appearance on someone who'd drunk a gallon of gasoline.

Sherlock kept his hand on my shoulder before smiling that smile that I'd dubbed, 'I'm getting ready to show off' smile. Robert was in for it and I was looking forward to Sherlock destroying him. "You must be Robert, her ex-fiancé." Robert stiffened as Sherlock smirked. "Oh well, one man's loss is another man's gain."

"Who the Hell are you?"

"I thought it was obvious, I'm her boyfriend." He stated, studying Robert. Sherlock then took off on one of his deductions. "You just flew in this evening. You must have known exactly where she was, otherwise you wouldn't have come straight here." Robert's face began to pale. Most of the time, I felt sorry for Sherlock's 'victims' but tonight; I relished watching Robert squirm. "The waitress fancied you and you two had a quick shag on the back wall outside the French restaurant 'Chardonnay.'"

"Robert!" I shouted at him. "How dare you!"

"I swear," he shouted back at me. "none of this is true!"

"Really?" Sherlock said. "There's a faint trace of lipstick on your neck and mouth." I squinted, Sherlock had perfect vision and he was right. Your clothes are wrinkled and again, we have lipstick on your collar." He sniffed loudly. "You smell of 'Casaba Nights,' Tammy prefers 'Elizabeth Taylor's' line of perfumes. There's a phone number, written on a napkin, peeping out of your pocket. The handwriting shows it's a woman's and a lipstick kiss on it shows it was definitely romantic. The word 'Chardonnay' is printed on the napkin and the restaurant is just next door. Not to mention, you forgot to zipper your trousers up."

"Sherlock, love, please hold off for a moment." I asked him as politely as I could through my teeth. "I believe you, but I want to get this…piece of trash out of my sight!"

"Tammy, I swear-"

"Oh shut up! You get out of here!"

"Wait a minute!" He snapped. "I flew all the way out here from LA! You can't throw me out now!"

"Really?!"

Sherlock rubbed my shoulders. "Calm down, your vocal chords."

I inhaled deeply. "Why would I destroy all my chances within a day of seeing you? I bought you roses for your opening night!" He shot Sherlock a smug look. "Which is more than _your boyfriend _did!"

"Wrong!" Sherlock reached into his pocket and handed me a fake rose. "I brought her a rose."

_That _really took me off guard. I smiled as I accepted the fake rose. It was a deep red, painted with red and silver glitter. The leaves were velvety, also painted with green glitter. It was an unusual present, but I'm certain Sherlock had a reason for it. "Thank you Sherlock." I stretched up and kissed the corner of his mouth. "I shall treasure it."

"It's a _fake._" Robert spat. "I spent fifty pounds on those roses you trampled."

"Actually ten," Sherlock said. "you bought them off the street corner. I happened to see you just before I entered, but I had to talk to a friend for a moment." Knowing he was defeated, Robert turned and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him. "Good day." Sherlock turned to face me. "Well, that was interesting."

"I was thinking more tedious than interesting." I exhaled and nervously rubbed my fingers on the leaves of the fake rose. "Thank you Sherlock and I'm sorry."

He frowned. "Make up your mind if you're thankful or sorry."

"All right, thank you…for making it seem like you're my," I almost choked on the word. "boyfriend. And I'm sorry…for putting you in this situation."

"I'll add him to my list of enemies." He said blandly.

I shook my head. "You're a funny man Sherlock, that's why I love you." My face flushed red as his eyebrows rose. Why did I just say that?! I began to stammer. "Not in a romantic way! As a friend! You know! Like John does! Oh, gosh!" I slammed my makeup table with my hand. "I'm babbling now!"

"I understand." He said, as if he were brushing a pesky fly off his suit. "I deuced that."

"Of course." I exhaled. "Where'd you get the rose?"

He shrugged. "I bought it on my way here, of course."

"That's really kind of you."

"John told me to buy you some flowers, but that's so predictable." He sat on the edge of my dressing table, watching me powder my face. "Can you guess why I bought a fake rose?"

I nodded. "Because you're Sherlock Holmes and all your ideas are unique. I can treasure it." I set down my powder puff and run my finger along the glittery petals. "Every time I look at this rose I'll remember…so many things. My opening night here. The rose will never die." I wanted to add I'd remember being kissed by him for the first time, but the words couldn't come. "It's beautiful."

But Sherlock wouldn't let it go. "What else?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said," he stated, leaning forward and studying my face with critical eye, brushing at some powder above my brow. "it's a little heavy here, but you said you'd remember so many _things_. So far, I've only heard you name one."

I exhaled and ran my hand over my eyes. "Sherlock, it's been a rough day and I don't need you, a male, giving me makeup advice. You know what I meant."

"Maybe, I want to hear you say it." His eyes pierced straight through the windows of my soul. "Look Tammy, I only kissed you as a favor. I've all ready said that girlfriends are not in my line."

"I'm aware of that Sherlock." I said holding his gaze as best I could. "Boyfriends aren't in my line, just as girlfriends aren't in your line of work. I think it's evident in my poor choice in Robert!"

"I'm trying to say Tammy," he hesitated. "I'm not stupid. I could feel that you reacted to my kiss."

I went red and rolled my eyes. "Oh please!"

"And…. I want to apologize. I shouldn't, have ever done that."

"I am not attracted to you Sherlock Holmes, I could never be!" I glowered at him. "If you're thinking I'm attracted to you just because you kissed me, you're wrong! I simply wasn't expecting a kiss, so I reacted to it! If it had been John, I would have done the same thing!" I demanded. "So, you can get that ridiculous thought out of your head this instance!"

He tilted his head. "You're crying."

"I am not crying!" He took my chin in his hand and made me look at the mirror. To my distress, I was crying! "Oh great! Now I don't even know when or why I'm crying!" I snapped at him. "And don't you dare start deducing me because you know _nothing_ about women! And I know for certain you know nothing about me!"

Sherlock stared at me for a moment before rubbing my hand. "I thought I did, now I'm not so sure. You've got a personality that changes faster than one can blink an eye."

I exhaled. "I'm sorry, it's just…I didn't think I'd see him again. And he's a….a… oh, I can't say what I want to say! It's too dirty!"

Sherlock laughed. "Little Miss Prim and Proper, you are. I like how you're one of the few people who can't bring yourself to swear." He continued rubbing my hand, sending tingles down my spine. "So...thanks." I look up at him surprise. "For er, uhm...saving my life."

I smiled. "My pleasure, I could say I did it because I'm a nice persona, but I'm not nice."

"Yes you are."

"I shout at you."

"You challenge me."

"I boss you around."

"You stand up to me."

"I think you're an idiot!"

"And I think you're cleverer than you give yourself credit for."

"Sometimes I think you're really a lot sweeter than you act." I exhaled as I picked up the rose and twirled it. "This is really sweet."

"Most girls wouldn't understand why they were given a fake rose." He said firmly. "But you did."

"What did I miss?"

"Nothing. You deduced everything perfectly."

"Good." I turned back towards the mirror. "I've got about five minutes to fix my makeup. Head on out." I began brushing my hair. "Go on then. But leave John and his date alone!"

"And one note, the slit on your skirt is way too high." He said squeezing my hand one last time. "And all the men are looking at your assets instead of listening to you. Not to mention, their girlfriends aren't liking their ogling you."

I laughed lightly, wiping my eyes. "Sherlock. Go!"

He trotted out of the room and I began powdering under my eyes. I smiled as I casually began singing quietly. _So who needs roses or stuff like that? So who wants chocolates, they'd make me fat? And I can get along just fine, without a gushing valentine. And I'll get by kid, with just the guy, kid. So, if he calls me and it's collect, Sir Matthew Crawley, I don't expect! _

I stopped. That settled it! I was loosing my mind. Sherlock was no way like Matthew Crawley and I haven't forgiven Dan Stevens for leaving Downton Abbey! I'd had a huge crush on him and he'd broken my heart when he'd left the series. Sherlock had the power to break my heart and crush it mercilessly. But this time, it was real life, not a T.V Series, and there was no writer to insure my happy ending.

_And though I may be left out on limb. _I picked up Robert's crushed roses and smiled sadly. _Who needs roses….that didn't come from him?_ I dropped them in the wastebasket, biding that part of my life goodbye.


	6. 6: Breaking character

Chapter Six

Breaking character

I came home, my feet were killing me, but my heart was light as I opened the door just as John was preparing to head inside as well. "Hello!" I said brightly as he held the door open for me.

"Hi Tammy," he said cheerfully. The sounds of gunfire caused us to jump. "Oh God." He and I raced up the stairs keeping low. It wasn't surprising to me that it was Sherlock taking pot shots at the wall. "What the…Hell do you think you're doing?!" John shouted at Sherlock, who was sprawled in his chair. Sherlock didn't even glance at John. He mumbled something that I didn't hear clearly. "What?"

"Bored!" Sherlock shouted jumping up from his chair. John covered his ears and I followed his example as Sherlock took more shots at the wall. "Bored!" BANG! "Bored!"

"I think it's obvious that you're bored."

John hastened into the room and took the gun from Sherlock and I exhaled in relief. I stared at the wall, seeing he'd painted a yellow smiley face up on the wall. I shook my head as I examined it. I decided to try hot water first, then, take a look around and see if Mrs. Hudson had the wallpaper for this room.

"I don't know what's gotten into the criminal classes these days." He muttered walking up to wall. "Only glad I'm not one of them."

"Same here." I commented as I began removing my coat. "Your brain is definitely needed on the good side."

"So you take it out on the wall?" John asked.

"Oh, the wall had it come." He swiped at the wall before dramatically, flopping onto the couch. He began rearranging the cushions to suit his comfort. I turned my back to Sherlock, but I know he'd know that I was laughing at him due to my shaking shoulders. A wall is a wall. What could it have possibly done to earn Sherlock's wrath?

"How about that Russian case?" John asked

"Belarus, open and shut domestic murder," he said grabbing a magazine. "not worth my time."

"Oh, shame." John went to the kitchen. "Anything in I'm starving?"

"If not John, I'll make something."

"Thanks Tammy. Oh!" John half-shouted and half-groaned as he slammed the refrigerator door shut after opening it.

"John?" I asked.

He reopened the refrigerator door, there was a long pause, and then he mumbled. "There's a head."

"A what?" I asked.

"A severed head."

"Just tea for me thanks." Sherlock said.

I still wasn't registering what was being said by John. "A head of what?"

"There's a head in the fridge, a bloody head!"

"Yes." Sherlock stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Dawn broke on me. "There's a human head in the refrigerator at this moment?!"

"Where else was I supposed to put it?" Sherlock asked drolly. At that moment, it was so ridiculous that several snickers snuck out. "You don't mind do you?" I started laughing loudly as I sank onto the arm of the nearest chair. "Got it from Bart's morgue."

"It's not funny Tammy." John said.

"I'm sorry." I said between laughs. "But…if two could just…hear yourselves, you'd be laughing too! What's the head for Sherlock?"

"I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death."

"See John," I said between laughter as I stood up and went to put the teakettle on. "it makes perfect sense. Disgusting, yet it makes sense, considering it's Sherlock."

Sherlock changed the subject. "I see you've written up the taxi driver case."

"Er, uh yes."

"A study in pink?" I could tell from Sherlock's tone that he detested the title. "Nice."

"Well, you know pink lady. Pink case. Pink phone. Did you like it?"

"Uhhmmm," Sherlock drew it out before delivering the final blow. "noo."

"I liked it John." I stated. John had allowed me to read it before posting it to his blog. I'd thought it was very good.

"Thank you." John turned to Sherlock. "Why not? I'd think you'd be flattered."

"Flattered?" Sherlock crumbled his magazine. "Sherlock sees through everything and everyone in seconds. What's incredible though is that he's spectacularly ignorant his is about some things."

I blinked. "Did you really say that John? I don't recall reading that!"

"I revised it a bit of it after letting you read it." He explained. "Now hang on a minute Sherlock. I didn't mean that-

"Oh you meant spectacularly ignorant in a nice way? Look, it doesn't matter to me who's Prime Minister or who's been sleeping with who-

"Or that the earth goes around the sun?" John filled in.

"Oh not that again. It's not important!"

"Not important? It's primary school stuff! How can you not know that?"

"Sherlock doesn't know that the earth goes around the sun?" I grinned as he scowled at me. "I learn something new about you every day Sherlock!"

"Oh shut up Tammy, if I did know it," he defended himself. "I deleted it."

"Deleted it?" John asked.

"Listen," Sherlock sat up. "this is my hard drive and it only makes sense to put things in there that are really useful. Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish. And that makes it hard to get at the things that matter. Do you see?"

I nodded. "If you think about it really doesn't make a huge change in our life. People survived for years without know the earth went around the sun. John, if you think about it there really isn't a good reason for us know that we go around the sun."

"But it's the solar system!"

I laughed at John's protest and Sherlock's groan of aggravation. "Oh Hell! What does that matter? So we go around the sun! If we went around the moon or round and round the garden like a teddy bear, it wouldn't make any difference! All that matters to me is the work! Without that my brain rots." He ran his hands through his hair. "Put that in the blog or better yet, stop inflicting your opinions on the world." Sherlock flipped onto his side, turning his back to john.

"Sherlock." I scold and I turn to John. "I thought it was a flattering blog John, it was very nice. Personally," I glowered at Sherlock's back. "I thought you made Sherlock out to be a little _too nice_."

"Thanks." John jumped up from his chair.

Sherlock spun around as John went towards the door. "Where are you going?" I rolled my eyes at the surprise in his voice.

"Out!" He said, grabbing his jacket. "I need some air."

"Honestly Sherlock." I said as I walked towards him. "Did you expect John to stay after you hurt his feelings like that? He didn't mean anything by it."

Sherlock didn't answer me as Mrs. Hudson entered the room. "Hello Sherlock, Tammy!"

"Hello Mrs. Hudson."

"Tammy, thank you for paying for a new washing machine for me. You didn't have to do that."

"Nonsense Mrs. Hudson. I had the money and it was my privilege. You've been so kind and done so much for us that I was glad to return the favor."

Sherlock got up and walked up and over the coffee table, causing me to roll my eyes. Sherlock had some of the oddest inhuman habits of any person. But, it was those little things that made him quite endearing. I joined Mrs. Hudson in helping her put the groceries away.

"Don't bother dear." She said sweetly. "You talk with Sherlock." She added in a lower voice. "He really likes talking to you, he can't stand to admit it."

"Look at that Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock said from the window. We both looked in his direction. "Quiet, calm, peaceful. Isn't it hateful?"

"If it's noise you want, I'll be happy to provide you with some."

I expected a retort from Sherlock, but he didn't offer me one. Since that night we kissed in my dressing room, he'd shrunk in his shell. It was getting annoying for me. I missed the cheerful banter and arguments between us.

"Oh, I'm certain something will turn up Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson said. "A nice murder, that will cheer you up."

"Can't come to soon." Sherlock mumbled.

"Careful what you wish for." I said. "Wishes can come true." Sherlock kept his back to me and continued gazing out of the window.

"Hey!" Mrs. Hudson said. "What have you done to my bloody wall?" Sherlock simply turned and smiled that, 'I'm all innocent' smile/smirk of his. I rolled my eyes and attempted to hide my giggle but I was failing miserably. "I'm putting this on your rent young man!"

I shook my head. "Sherlock. Honestly!" I stood before him, attempting to look stern. "A yellow smiley face? Don't tell me that's the paint from your last case?"

"Possibly." He said, the corners of his mouth were turned up slightly, as if he were attempting not to smile.

"You must have been terrible as a child." I smirked. "Did you paint the walls in your nursery by any chance?"

"No comment."

"I painted my mother's piano when I was little. I put pink hand prints all over it." I said with a persuasive smile, I knew Sherlock was lying about painting. He painted something, it wasn't his nursery wall, but it was something. "An Alma-Tadema Steinway."

"Now that I think on it, I do recall attempting to repaint Vincent Van Gogh's 'Starry, Starry Night' on mother's blue bedroom carpet. I'd been left to my own devices and-"

"You were bored." I finished for him.

Suddenly there was a huge explosion that blew the windows behind Sherlock out with one terrific flash and bang! The impact of the explosion caused Sherlock to fly forward into me, knocking me flat on my back. Our forehead's bumped smartly and my ears began ringing with the sounds of car and fire alarms going off. Sherlock groaned loudly and shook his head.

I groaned as his weight cushioned me into the carpet. "Don't open your eyes. Are you ok?" Sherlock actually sounded concerned to my ears, but I couldn't see his face as he began brushing glass and dirt off my face. "Don't move."

"What just happened? I know it was an explosion, but what kind? A bomb?"

"Possibly. You can open your eyes now."

I opened my eyes and I immediately spied broken glass and dirt in his curls. "I'll return the favor." I began brushing them out of his hair. "You've got glass all in your hair and dirt about your face."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Sherlock said. "This is rather interesting position we find ourselves in."

My hands stilled and my blood ran cold as I realized that Sherlock did have me pinned in a rather compromising position. I cleared my throat and continued brushing the glass out of his hair. "Depends on if your mind at this moment is or isn't in the gutter."

"I'm impressed."

"That my mind isn't in the gutter?"

"No." He studied me harder. "That you're doing a good job of hiding your emotions."

"I'm a singer, acting is part of the job." I finally made full eye contact and my heart froze in my chest. I licked my lips and Sherlock's eyes went down to my mouth. "Now, are you going to get off me, or were you just getting comfortable?"

Sherlock smirked. "It actually is quite comfortable."

My blood ran cold. He wasn't really saying such things to me in a moment like this? "Please, get off me, there are people injured and you're practically... propositioning me!"

"Well I could be."

"Sherlock!" I screeched.

"I could be, in fact I might be." Oh, dear God, he looked so serious! "If I were, would it make a difference to you?"

"If I were that kind of woman, which I'm not, I might be interested." I hit his shoulder. "Now get off me!" He did as I asked and he even helped me up. "Thank you!"

I brushed my dress off as Sherlock studied me. "Have you ever had sex before?"

"What?" My ears went red and my mouth opened in shock. "That's none of your business!"

"Have you?"

"I don't see why that's any concern of yours!"

"Well have you?"

"I'm not going to answer you!"

"You haven't!" He grinned and laughed. "Why on earth not?"

"For the same reason you haven't Sherlock." I began unbuttoning my coat. "I just haven't found the right man that I'd give my virginity to." He nodded thoughtfully. "I've deduced now that I'll be certain he's the right man when I find that he'll be hard to say 'no' to. Robert was way too easy to say no to."

"Possible deduction."

"Besides, I am not giving my virginity away until I'm married." I stumbled to the window, minding the broken glass and looked out it. My blood ran cold at the sight of the building in shambles. "Oh good Lord. There are people injured out there and we're talking about….never mind what we were talking about! Sherlock, get the coffee pot going and get some blankets."

"No."

"And then check on Mrs. Hudson. Ask her for her coffee pot and teakettle as well!"

"I said no."

I wasn't in the mood for this. I got up in his face shouted. "You will do whatever the bloody Hell I tell you do and I won't hear any back talk from you either!"

Sherlock stared at me, clearly stunned. "You just swore at me."

"Damn right I did!"

He flinched. "Twice."

"There are people who may be hurt and injured! Not to mention the firemen and police are going to be busy all night! Now, do as I said!" He didn't say anything, but I could tell that he was going to do as I asked.

Without waiting, I raced up the stairs, unbuttoning the back of my dress as I went up. I threw it on the floor and grabbed the first shirt and skirt I saw. Purple skirt and an orange shirt. Then, I put my boots and leggings on, grabbed my teakettle, coffeepot and ran down to Sherlock's flat. Sherlock had kettle singing on the stove and the coffeepot was going. I plugged my coffeepot in beside his and began measuring out the coffee grounds. Sherlock stepped alongside me, completely dressed now.

"I'll do this." He took the measurer from me. "Get the water boiling."

"Thanks." I stepped aside from him, my hand tingling from where he touched me. I shook it off, filled up the teakettle, then put the water on the stove. I reached inside the refrigerator, past the severed head to grab the milk. I actually knocked the poor person's head over and had to resteady it.

Sherlock was studying me closely. "What's the milk for?"

"Cocoa. There may be children injured and not all people like tea and coffee."

"I can do that." He said stepping towards me, again, his hand covered mine.

"Good." I moved away from him and glanced around the apartment, spying the stack of blankets on Sherlock's chair I went towards them. But Sherlock stopped me with a hand on my waist. "Let me pass."

"In a moment." I glanced up at Sherlock, to find his eyes were studying the hand on my waist. But after a moment, he studied my face. "You just swore at me, twice, you said you're against swearing and in the weeks you've been living here, you've never sworn. Even with your ex-boyfriend, you never said a foul word against him." I trembled as he began breaking down my emotions. He turned me towards him, forcing me to face him. "You broke character and in all these weeks I've known you, you've never shouted at me like that before."

"We shout at each other all the time."

"Yes, but we don't mean it. This time, you did. Just now, when you touched the head in the refrigerator, you didn't react. You didn't scream or say it was disgusting. Any female would scream, rush over to the nearest sink and scrub their hands within a hairline of drawing blood. You didn't."

"I didn't think of it."

"Because your mind is on something else. Something that is distracting you." Those eyes of his probed mine. "This bombing must register on a personal level. I'm aware of how your father died, but you never speak of your mother's death." I flinched and dropped my gaze. He caught my chin in his hand and made me look up at him. "Just now, you avoided my gaze. Your mother died in an explosion didn't she? A bombing?"

"Fine! I'll tell you!" I cut him off and began speaking rapidly. I tightly folded my arms around my chest. "My grandmother was dying, so mom went to New York to see her. They hadn't spoken in years and they wanted to say their farewells." Tears prickled my eyes. "But before going, she just _had _to visit a friend who just happened to work in the World Trade Center."

Sherlock nodded, he understood. "September 11th?"

"Yes."

"I am sorry."

I pulled away from him. "I've got to go. Bring down the blankets and the various beverage supplies from my flat please."

"As you wish," I turned and walked away when he spoke my name softly. "Tammy."

I paused in the doorway for a moment, that's when I felt his arms go around my waist. I gasped and trembled as Sherlock pinned me against his body in a sort of hug. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. I knew that this was his silent way of offering me comfort. Expressing all the words he wanted to say, but couldn't bring himself to say.

I leaned my head back against his chest, as he ran his a hand down my hair. I couldn't have been more surprised when I felt him press a kiss against my forehead. I couldn't move, I had to be imagining things. His lips moved downwards to my cheek. In that instance, I broke away and hurried down the stairs without giving him a second glance.

I was going insane, imagining things between us. It was at that moment I decided that I had to get away from Baker Street for a while. Some personal space between Sherlock and myself would help my heart freeze again.


	7. 7: When a man wants to kiss a woman

Chapter Seven

When a man wants to kiss a woman

"Miss," the fireman, Anthony, asked me for the third time. "are you sure you're all right?"

I nodded. "I'm fine." I coughed. "You're all the one's who need help."

I'd been out here for hours. Keeping the police officers, paramedics, fire fighters, and less injured people warm and satisfied. Sherlock kept an eye on the tea, cocoa and coffee levels, keeping them full. Mrs. Hudson was surprised and even asked me what kind of spell I'd put on him. Sherlock had smirked while I shrugged it off. Mrs. Hudson, had gone to bed around 1:00, exhausted.

"You keep coughing." He observed. "Maybe you should rest for a while."

"It's my allergies." I assured him between my coughs. "I was cursed with being allergic to cold air. I've got to go. A few more people need refills, then I'll take my medicine."

"You're a regular Florence Nightingale."

"Thank you."

I turned and began making my rounds again. Truth to be told, I was exhausted. I'd gotten up at four-yesterday morning. And a quick glance at my watched told me that I'd gone almost 24 hours without sleep. My coughing was getting constant now; the air was freezing cold. My lungs felt like an ice lump and I was determined to make myself a cocoa and get a gulp before venturing out here again.

I stumbled over a brick and strong arms caught me around the waist. "Thank you." When I was swept into those arms and I turned to see Sherlock was holding me. "Sherlock! Put me down!" He ignored me and moved towards the flat. "Please! Put me down!"

"No."

"Sherlock!"

"Enough is enough," he stated as if he were my doctor. "you need to rest."

"Sherlock, I appreciate the personal interest-

"Then accept it." He handed me my inhaler. "Here."

"Hey!" Anthony shouted. "You there! Put her down!"

Sherlock turned and shot him an icy glare. "I'm going to put her down as soon as she's situated in bed."

"Sherlock." I protest. "I'm fine."

"No." He glanced down at me. "You've had no sleep since you woke up almost 24 hours ago. I shouldn't have let you stay up this late anyway."

"It's my body and I know how much it can take!" Sherlock rolled his eys. "What time is it?"

"Almost 2:00. It's freezing out here and you could develop pneumonia in weather like this. Your lungs are weak enough as is."

"Sherlock," I coughed. "I'm fine."

"Tell me that without coughing." He stated before shooting a glare at Anthony. "Unless you wish to repay her kindness by allowing her to get sick, you'll let me put her back in her flat."

Charles looked at me. "Do you know him?"

"Yes. I do."

"Ok. I just wanted to make sure." He smiled. "I hope we'll see each other again."

I nodded and opened my mouth to reply. "Shut up." Sherlock said. "You've talked enough. No more cold air. And no, you won't be seeing her again."

I waved over Sherlock's shoulder at Anthony and smiled at him. Once inside, Sherlock began carrying me up the stairs. "I can walk."

"It's a miracle you can. Your feet must be frozen."

"But I'm too heavy for you!"

"You weigh approximately 125 lbs." He stated. "And I'm a lot stronger than I look."

I groaned and blushed. "Oh for heaven's sake Sherlock! Can't I have any privacy when I'm around you?"

"No. That's a consequence that you shall have to deal with if you insist on hanging around with me."

"Actually," now was a good time to mention it. "these last few days I was thinking of taking an extended trip. Visiting some relatives up north."

He set me on the couch and ordered. "Don't move." He went towards the kitchen. "You don't have any relatives, you told me that all ready."

"I don't disclose all my private life to you."

"I know for a fact that I don't have any relatives Tammy. Except for a brother that you haven't seen for over ten years. Now, why don't you tell me why you're really leaving?"

"Sherlock." I got up from the couch and turned to face him. "I don't have to tell you any of my-

"I distinctly remember telling you to sit down and not to move." I rolled my eyes and flopped back on the couch. I hadn't realized how tired I was until I sat down again. I yawned and looked up as Sherlock handed me a hot raspberry cocoa. "Here."

"Thank you." He sat down on the coffee table, pulling my foot up into his lap. I took a sip of the warm beverage to mask my surprise. He pulled off my boots and socks. "Hmm, this tastes great."

He rubbed my feet between his and his brows knitted together. "Your feet are freezing."

"You mean I actually have feet under all that ice?" I joked.

"Glad to see that your sense of humor is still intact."

I had to joke, or talk, anything to keep my mind off his hands. "How'd you know that this particular cocoa flavor was my favorite?"

"It was the last one of it's kind in the box. You don't drink coffee and you can't stand to drink your tea hot. You always make yourself a cup of tea, then stick it in the refrigerator."

"Sorry. I like it cold."

"It's the American side of you." Sherlock pulled a pair of what I suspected were his socks up on my frozen feet. He then sat next to me and began to casually rub my shoulders. "You need to keep a part of you true to your American heritage." I knew he was trying to help me warm up, but it was adding to the torture of being painfully aware of how he made me feel. I looked down at my mug, which began to swim before my eyes. "Tammy, why are you crying?"

I rubbed my eyes. "I'm not really crying." I set my cocoa down on the table and exhaled. "I'm just more tired than I realize."

"Hmm, just sit here for a minute and you'll feel better."

I doubted that. I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch as his hands on my shoulders ceased their actions. A hand in my hair caused me to tremble. "I should go Sherlock."

"Do you know," he said conversationally. "that you look extremely lovely at this moment Tammy?" I don't know what miracle kept my eyes from bulging out at this point. Sherlock had shocked me to the core. "You looked exceptionally beautiful outside."

"I-I look a mess." I could scarcely breathe at this point. "I'm dirty and...I'm sweaty."

"I was watching you, helping everyone. But you knew that didn't you?" I didn't answer, I had sensed his eyes on me, but I thought it was me. "It made you most attractive, holding the crying children, handing blankets and drinks to some of the victims. All the helpers on the scene, especially that Fireman, had their eyes on you." For a second, I thought I'd detected a note of jealousy in his voice. "You were like an angel of mercy on that scene."

"Thank you Sherlock." I wasn't sure what to say in this situation. I wasn't used to Sherlock...being nice to me. Why was he complimenting me, saying that I looked beautiful? He'd seen me in a formal dress and said I looked fine! "Coming from you, that's a…sweet compliment." Sherlock leaned forward, his hand brushing the curls at the nape of my neck. I set my cocoa on the table. "I should go now." Sherlock grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him. My heart pounded in my throat, and for a moment I thought I was going to be sick. Sherlock placed his right hand on my neck, rubbing his thumb along the corner of my mouth. At that instant, he looked as if he were preparing to kiss me. I groaned and pulled away, shaking my head. "I really should go to bed now before I make a complete fool of myself."

"Not until I've said this." He stated rationally. "If you're thinking that you imagined that I just tried to kiss you, you'd be wrong." I froze in place. "You didn't imagine it, I did try."

"Sherlock?"

"In fact, I tried twice, but you turned away from me each time."

I stared at him. "Why?" I couldn't believe that he'd just admitted that he tried to kiss me! Me! Why me!?

"I think you should tell me why you kept turning away from me." He said casually. "An unusual reaction. Most women wouldn't have reacted that way."

"No!" I shook my head in disbelief. "Why? Why would you want to kiss _me_?"

"I think it's a little obvious why a man kisses a woman." He had my full attention now. "And, if you're thinking that every other little gesture that I've shown you is merely casual on my behalf you're wrong." I stared at him. "As a matter a fact, I've rather grown impatient, waiting for you to realize that it was wasn't your imagination running away with you."

Sherlock closed the distance between us, searching my face for any sign of resistance. Finding no resistance, he pulled me close and kissed me. The moment our lips met, the world stopped. Delicious shivers shook my soul and rocked me to my core. I was shocked, fighting the urge to place my hands on him, fearful that this was all a dream that I was about to wake up from.

Sherlock guided my hands to his shoulders and I wrapped my arms around his neck. This kiss was different. It wasn't forced and there was no fighting of the obvious emotions between us. I was still stunned. Sherlock was actually kissing me. He initiated the kiss, he actually wanted it! His hand was still on my chin, allowing me to lean into the kiss while his other hand rested on my waist, gently pressing me closer to him. I fear I lost all track of time in this moment.

I gasped as he broke the kiss. It was a simple kiss, beautiful and I blush to admit that it left me aching for more. I shook my head, to realize that my arms were on the front of his chest and I was gripping his lapels. "Why Sherlock?" I whispered. "Why'd you-"

"To make a point."

"Oh." I released his coat in disappointment. "Another one of your experiments." I wasn't surprised so I moved to get up. I was embarrassed and hurt now. "I must be more tired than I thought."

"Stop trying to run away Tammy, cowardice really doesn't suit you. And please try to listen to what I am trying to say." Sherlock grabbed me and pulled me back down onto the seat I kept trying to vacate all evening. He pulled me into his side, draping my legs over his knees. "Now," he patted my leg before continuing his speech. "I want to be able to kiss you without this…awkwardness between us. I find that inspite of myself; these emotions that I feel towards you, cannot turn off. I've come to the conclusion that the reason that I can't turn them off is because I am very attracted to you. I don't know why, all emotions are simply a chemical reaction to the brain." Sherlock was not a romantic; he really didn't know how to talk to a woman. He spoke to me as if he were explaining a complex case to a group of 'idiots'. Yet, the words were more important to me than the lack of emotion behind them. "I'll never be the normal, perfect or ideal man that most women would dream of but I think that the odds are in our favor of us making it work for us. So, how about it?"

I was silent for a long moment, weighing the options in my hand. Did I want this? Did I really want to enter into a relationship with Sherlock? Was I willing to risk breaking my heart again, just for him? Sherlock studied me. His stiff posture implied that he was waiting for me, a wall around his heart, should I decline him. But I wasn't going to. I did love Sherlock, but the odds of it working were one chance in a million. But then again, wasn't one chance in a million was better than no chance at all?

"Sherlock." I trailed a hand down his cheek, watching some of the tension leave his shoulders. "I know you'd never be a regular boyfriend and I don't want you to be normal." I smiled as I borrowed one of his favorite quotes. "Normal is boring." He laughed, pulling me close to him. "I'd like to explore these feelings and see where they go."

"I'd also like to state that I won't be the romantic type of lover that most women dream of. I think practically and sensibly."

"Sherlock," I rested my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes for a moment. "this moment…it really is romantic. You don't have to have to have chocolates, roses, wine and a fire to make the moment romantic. Most of the time, just being with that person and holding them close is enough. I know what to expect from you Sherlock and rest assured, I want you to be you."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "You're a wonder Tammy. But you're also dead tired." He picked me up and carried me into his bedroom. At once, my pulse picked up as Sherlock deposited me on the bed. He smiled understandingly. "I'll take John's room. You can sleep in here."

I smiled and squeezed his hand. "Thank you Sherlock."

He moved towards his dresser and pulled out one of his familiar dark purple shirts. "Here. You can sleep in this." I accepted it. "You're tired and I doubt you'd appreciate me rooting through your drawers for the appropriate nightdress. Besides, by the time I'd return with it, you'd be asleep."

"Thank you Sherlock." I yawned. "Goodnight."

Sherlock leaned forward and kissed my cheek. "Goodnight." He breathed against my ear. "Tammy." It was the first time Sherlock had actually said my name with some feeling in his tone. I trembled slightly as Sherlock stepped away from me. With that, Sherlock left me in his room. My fingers shook as I pulled my clothes off, letting them drop on the floor. I'd never slept in a button down shirt before, but tonight would be a night of many things for me.


	8. 8: He's got a way

Chapter eight

He's got a way

I woke to the sounds of John calling Sherlock's name. I blinked and sat up. A glance at the alarm clock on my bed showed that it was nearly 10:00 in the morning. I got up yawning, put my feet in Sherlock's huge slippers and looked for my clothes. I found a note from Sherlock. _I gave your clothes to Mrs. Hudson, she's washing them. I trust you're going to sleep late, so your clothes should be ready by the time you wake up. _I smiled. I must have been super tired not to hear Sherlock walk in the room. When I was little, my brother would sneak into my room and attempt to prank me. But the moment his hand touched the doorknob, I was awake.

I looked around the room and found his blue robe hanging on the back of his bedroom door. I pulled it on and tied it around my waist. It smelled good; Sherlock always wore this mysterious, forest, woodsy type of cologne.

Before exiting, I had the sense to check my hair and face before exiting the room. I came out to see Sherlock had a cross look on his face and was plucking at his violin. There was also another man in the room, talking to John. John held a huge folder of papers and was glancing at them.

I flushed and debated on how I could sneak back into the room without being noticed. Sherlock saw me and he flashed me a smile before turning on his emotionless face. "Tammy, come on in here."

At the mention of my name, John and the other man looked in my direction. The other man was a few years older than Sherlock, a little heavy set, and had a face that could curdle dairy. He was studying me in a manner similar to Sherlock's but it was more discomforting.

I stepped out of Sherlock's room. John stared at me in shock. "Good morning."

The other man stared at me. "Who is _she_ Sherlock?"

"Thought you knew everything Mycroft." I guess Sherlock wasn't ready to tell John or whoever this was that we were kinda officially courting/dating. But that didn't matter, when he was ready, he'd tell them.

"She's in your shirt and robe!" Mycroft said.

"Sound deduction," I said. "what else was I to wear? Sherlock took my clothes."

"Tammy," John said. "Sherlock took your-"

"Oh I'm sorry! I should have realized how that sounded. No, I was up all night, I was too tired to get up to my flat, so he let me sleep in his room." I yawned again. "Mrs. Hudson is washing my clothes I believe. "

"I had to force her to got to bed at 2:00 this morning." Sherlock said. "I'm sure you observed that she still looks quite dead to the world."

"Thanks for the compliment, Sherlock. No woman can resist such a compliment." I said as I moved towards the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator door. "Severed head anyone? Coffee! I mean coffee."

"Is that head still in there?" John asked.

"Yep. But I'm used to it by now."

"She's still tired." Sherlock said. "You must have heard about her last night from your spies."

"Ahh," Mycroft said. "this must be the angel of mercy, that helped the paramedics and all the injured last night. Thank you." He stepped forward and extended his hand. "I'm Mycroft Holmes. Sherlock's older brother."

I felt my eyes widen and I looked at John and Sherlock. "I didn't know he had a brother."

"No. Sherlock doesn't talk about me much."

"You don't look anything like him." His eyes studied me, in a much subtler fashion than Sherlock. I glanced at him, to see he was glowering at Mycroft. I stepped away from him. "If you don't mind, I've been deduced by one Holmes brother, I prefer not to be deduced by two."

"As you wish." He turned to Sherlock. "She's fiery isn't she?"

"Oh her bite is worse than her bark." Sherlock said as he continued fiddling with his violin.

"I've got to be going." Mycroft turned to Sherlock. "You've got to find those plans Sherlock." Sherlock snorted and rolled his eyes. "Don't make me order you."

Sherlock ignored Mycroft. "I'd like to see you try."

"That makes two of us." I said. "Brother or not, you can't make Sherlock do anything he doesn't want to do."

Mycroft glared at me. "I suspect that you can get through to Sherlock when need be." John frowned as Mycroft continued. "Sherlock doesn't just let any woman sleep in his shirt, let alone his bed. Dr. Watson was gone, yet you come out of Sherlock's room, not Watson's. Therefore there must be something going on between you two."

"I believe as Sherlock's brother, you must have observed that he does have a human heart, therefore making him susceptible to moments of kindness?"

Mycroft peered down his nose at me. "Really?"

I crossed my arms and studied Mycroft. "You may be the older brother, and while you appear to have inherited some of Sherlock's talents you don't apply them properly." Sherlock looked up at me in curiosity as John's brows furrowed together in confusion. "Judging by your clothes and the way you give yourselves airs, you must obtain an important position in the government. Being related to Sherlock, it must be an important post that requires a bit of brainwork. You appear to be the kind who prefers to solve a case behind a desk instead of using legwork. That much is obvious because you appear to have be," I paused and phrased my words carefully. "carrying…a few more pounds than your average weight requires." Sherlock laughed loudly. "You're the older brother, yet Sherlock, who talks incessantly," I shot him a pointed look and he frowned. "failed to mention. Therefore, you two must not have a good relationship. Why, I don't know, but I must assume the fault lies with you. I can imagine that Sherlock didn't appreciate you bossing him around in his childhood. Am I right so far?"

"It appears that hanging around my brother has been rubbing off on you." Mycroft looked as if he'd inhaled a pickle. "In spite of what you think, I don't boss him around."

"Quote. "Don't make me order you." Unquote." I rolled my eyes. "He may be your younger brother, but he's a grown man, he's moved into his own place and you're going to order him to do something? What else is that but bossing him around?"

"It's an international security threat." Mycroft said. "It's very important."

"It must not be that important, otherwise Sherlock would be shouting how, 'It's Christmas' because of a mystery."

"I now see why Sherlock keeps you around," Mycroft said. "you certainly are a champion for him."

"I'm just naturally a defensive person. If you'd gone off on John, you'd have gotten the same reaction."

"I doubt it."

"Weren't you leaving Mycroft?" Sherlock said.

"I am." He turned towards Sherlock. "Think it over. Bye John." He turned towards me. "I look forward to seeing you again."

I shook his hand. "Well, can't say the feeling's mutual. But I'll see you again."

As our hands dropped Sherlock began playing some random screeching notes on his violin. I winced, as did Mycroft as he gathered his coat and umbrella and left the apartment. Sherlock kept up the noise until Mycroft was gone.

"Sherlock, you've just killed Vivaldi again." I teased as I walked over the chair Mycroft had vacated and sat on the arm of it.

"My apologies." His gaze strayed to my legs, which were exposed, thanks to his robe. I pulled it shut and he smirked at me. I made a face back at him, which he returned. "Good morning."

"Good morning."

So," John asked. "why'd you lie? You've got nothing on. Not a single case. That's why the wall took a pounding. Why did you tell your brother you were busy?"

"Why shouldn't I?" he asked as he rubbed the back of his head with his bow.

"Oh I see. Sibling rivalry, now we're getting somewhere."

"I don't like Mycroft."

"You're just siding with Sherlock." John said.

"No I'm not. I don't like him! It's something about his face. Mainly his nose."

John frowned. "His nose?"

"Yes. You know how everyone's nose turns up when they're trying to smell something?" John nodded. "Well, Mycroft's turns down like he just smelled it!"

Sherlock's phone rang and he brought his bow down with a sharp whoosh. I watched his face, change as he pulled his phone from within his coat pocket. "Sherlock Holmes." He answered it solemnly. Then, he sat up straight and I saw the light of curiosity blaze to life in his eyes. "Of course, how could I refuse?" he clicked his phone off, leaped out of his chair and set his violin behind him on the seat he just vacated. "Lestrade." He approached me. "I've been summoned. Coming John?"

"I-if you want me to."

"Of course. I'd be lost without my blogger." Sherlock turned to me as he draped his coat over his arm. "And I suppose you'll be at your club all day?"

"Yes. I'll clean up the flat before I go."

"Thanks Tammy." John said. "That's really sweet of you."

"I don't mind." I smiled at them; part of me wanted to give Sherlock a quick kiss on the cheek before he vanished. But he probably wouldn't want me to do that in front of John.

"Oh just go ahead and do it Tammy." Sherlock said stepping forward. "We probably won't see each other until tomorrow."

"All right, mind reader." I stretched up and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Good morning. Goodbye. Good luck and be safe!"

"You be safe too." He turned on his heel. "Come on John, and do close your mouth!"

John stared at me with his mouth open. "What did I miss?"

I laughed and hugged him. "Go on John. You be safe too."

"So Mycroft wasn't wrong?"

"I'll let Sherlock explain. Go!"

"Oh and Tammy, your phone's dying." Sherlock said. "I entered my number into your phone if you'd need me. Make sure you text me yours."

"Sure. And I'll think up a password so you can't guess it!"

"Don't bet on that."

I smiled. "I'm putting all my eggs in one basket Sherlock, I'm betting everything I got on you guessing my new password."

* * *

_He comes to me when I'm feeling down, inspires me without a sound. He touches me and I get turned around._

I sat at on the steps of stage, with a red spotlight shining down on me. I'd purchased a new white dress that looked quite stunning. I was singing one of my favorite songs, 'He's got a way,' there was a time when I was younger that I'd dedicated the chorus to my brother Johnny. But now, I was a lot older, maturer, and now, I had Sherlock dominating my brain for this song.

_He's got a smile that heals me; I don't know what it is. But I have to laugh when he reveals me. He's got a way about him; I don't know what it is. But I know that I can't live without him._

The applause was loud and I know I did a good enough job to give Bernadette peters a run for her money because of the mood I was in. I hummed the song all the way back to my dressing room. Upon entering, I realized that there was a familiar young man sitting at my makeup table. He stood up and approached me with a simple bouquet of pale peach roses. I made a mental note to up the security around here.

As he approached me, he smiled broadly. "Hullo Tammy."

"Thank you."

"If I remember correctly," he handed me the roses. "these used to be your favorite when you were younger."

I stared at him. "Yes." I hesitated. "They were-

"Mother's favorite too, I know." I must admit that now I was starting to creep out. "This was mother's too. _He_ gave it to her on their anniversary…before she died. It reads, 'till death to us part,' hardly original."

My heart pounded as light began to break slowly over me. It couldn't be. He grinned. A cocky grin that the back of my heart remembered. The longer I stared into his eyes, the more obvious it became to me that this was my brother Johnny.


	9. 9: Johnny, Mind Reader, Batman

Chapter nine

Johnny, Mind Reader, Batman and the kitten

I sat in my dressing room numbly as Johnny sat there, watching me. He'd changed so much. He was handsome, but not super tall, in fact, we were almost the same height, but then I also had my heels on. He kinda reminded me of Paul Mccartney, but just a little bit. Due to his appearance, part of me questioned his sexuality, he might be gay, but I wasn't sure.

"So," I asked. "how'd you find me? It's been…years."

"Actually, I was just walking by." He said. "Your poster…took me by surprise."

"Oh, it's a wonder I didn't faint when you approached me out there!"

"I knew you wouldn't." he grinned. "It takes a lot to make you faint."

"Thank you Johnny."

"Your singing has improved. You sang that song like you're in love." His eyes narrowed. "Are you in love?"

I smiled. "I could be."

"Who is he?"

"Wait a minute, it's rather soon to be talking about who my boyfriend is. You haven't told me anything about yourself! Like, I don't even know where you've been, what you've been doing. Where have you been?" Curiosity waned to tears. "It's been twelve years. And not once, did you contact me!"

"I didn't know where you were."

"And you couldn't call the company?"

"Not while _he _was still alive."

I frowned at Johnny. "Father is dead Johnny. I've been alone this last year."

He didn't show any emotion, for it wasn't in him. I was seven and he was thirteen when our parents married. I loved his mother but he never grew to love my father. It was odd, for he bonded with me. When we went to school, he protected me from bullies for years. When my prom date broke up with me, publicly, at the prom, he'd decked him, chipping a few of his teeth. But the day after mother died, he'd left, hadn't said a word to me, hadn't even left a note.

"I'm sorry that you've been alone." He stated. "But I never liked him. You know that."

I nodded. "I wish you'd have tried. Father really was wonderful."

Johnny frowned. "He wasn't _my_ father."

"I know. Why did you leave Johnny?"

"I didn't want to see him again."

"You hurt me." I said. "You promised mother before she left…that you'd look after me. You'd take care of me."

His face fell. "I broke that one didn't I? I'm a selfish bastard," I frowned at his choice of words, but couldn't disagree that the words he choose described his actions perfectly. "I'll make it up to you."

I nodded. "I don't think I'll need to extract a promise from you, but I'll set it aside for the time being." I cleared my throat and folded my hands. "So, what do you do for a living? As you can tell, I'm singing and I'm raking in my share of money from the winery."

"I'm a….government agent. I can't get into really, you know? Top secret." His phone rang and this funky sounding music played. I frowned. "Sorry. Got to take this." I nodded and turned towards my mirror. "What? Really?" He turned towards me. "I've got to go. Trouble."

I nodded. "I understand. Go on ahead!"

"I'll be back tomorrow."

"Ok. Goodbye!"

Actually, I didn't see John, Sherlock or my brother Johnny for the next three days. He left a note at the club, with his number. We texted every now and then, he was off on an undercover case and couldn't really be bothered. But when he'd drop me a line at night, I'd always answer him. Then, one morning I turned on my television set on to see that there had been another gas explosion in another building. It ripped through several floors, killing twelve people. I flipped off my T.V Set and decided to see if Sherlock and John were downstairs.

Fortunately, they were. But John was shouting at Sherlock and I hesitated outside the door for a moment. "There are lives at stake here Sherlock, actual human lives! Just so I know, do you care about that at all?"

"Will caring about them help save them?"

"Nope."

"Then I'll continue not to make that mistake."

Those words caused me to pause. Sherlock had basically said that caring for someone, in his line of work was a mistake. Then, why'd he ask me to give things a try with him? Was it a mistake on his part? Was I a mistake? Were these feelings he had for me a mistake? And if they all were mistakes, could these mistakes be rectified?

"And you find that easy do you?"

"Yes. Very. Is that news to you?"

"No. No!"

"I've disappointed you."

"That's good. That's a good deduction there."

"Don't make people into heroes John. Heroes don't exist and if they did I wouldn't be one of them."

John groaned and I tapped lightly on the on the door. Both heads went towards me. "Hi guys."

"Hello Tammy." John said.

Sherlock was more pointed. "How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough."

"How long?"

I crossed my arms. "Since, John…asked if you cared anything about the human lives at stake."

He frowned. "And you heard my reply?"

"Yes."

"I've disappointed you too then?"

"Not really, I was expecting something like that from you. I'm just confused at this moment and I'm attempting to decipher you."

"Why?"

"If it's a mistake to care about people, then," I sat down in the chair John had vacated. "why, did we have that discussion about us a few days ago? Am I mistake then? If not now, then could I be?"

Sherlock's phone went off, sparing him the trouble of answering me. He muttered something and began frantically punching keys on his phone. John looked at me. "What is going on between you two Tammy? Sherlock didn't say anything to me a few days ago."

I shrugged. "It's not my news to share. It's Sherlock's news and when he feels comfortable sharing it, then you'll know."

"I've all ready gathered that there's something going on between you two." He said. "But you two aren't….involved are you?"

I glanced at Sherlock; he was focused on his phone, oblivious of what John had asked. As much I wanted to answer John's question, I shook my head. "Not really. What is going on anyway? I saw the gas explosion."

"It's a bomber." John explained. "The building across from us was a bombing as well."

I stared at him. "What? Why?"

John frowned. "I'm not really sure. But it definitely involves Sherlock. This…maniac has been giving Sherlock puzzles to solve in a certain number of hours. He then finds a hostage, decks them in explosives and if Sherlock fails, it's curtains for them."

"Oh dear god! And the last one-

"The victim started to describe the bomber, so, he killed her."

"All right John, let's go." Sherlock said. "I got sent a photo of the Thames, so dress warmly."

"Let me go grab my coat." I said. "I'm coming too."

Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh no, you're definitely not going."

I stared at him. "What? Sherlock, I can help, I'd like to-"

"No Tammy!" He shouted at me. I blinked, surprised by the firmness in his voice. "I don't want you anywhere near John and I! In fact, promise me you'll stay in the flat until this whole things is over!"

I didn't like this; I didn't like it at all. I knew that Sherlock wouldn't be acting like this unless the danger was real. Or, maybe he was just concerned for my welfare and he didn't want this man to know I was a part of his life now. I wanted to fight, but at the moment, Sherlock had enough pressure without me adding to it.

"Now Sherlock," John snapped. "you're not in control of her."

"John," I asked patiently. "I can answer for myself." I turned towards him. I could tell that he was expecting a fight from me. "I promise Sherlock. I won't leave until you say I may leave."

The tension left Sherlock's shoulders and he nodded. "All right."

"But," I said. "I do have one errand to run later this evening." He frowned. "If you want me to break it, I will."

"What is it?"

"I found my brother."

He stared at me. "When was this?"

"Three days ago and, I'd liked to get him a present. If you're worried about me getting kidnapped, I'll activate the GPS in my phone and I'll take it with me. I'll text my email and password to you so you can track me if you need to find me.""

"Where are you going?"

"There's a little shop in the southern part of London. It's a crummy neighborhood, I know, but the presents in that shop are unique."

"Name of the shop?"

"Little slice of Heaven?"

"When would you be leaving?"

"About 3:00, the traffic isn't so bad down there. And Mrs. King, she owns the shop, I've given her so much business that she invited me to have tea with her. May I go?"

"This is absurd!" John said. "You're a grown woman! You don't have to ask _his _permission for anything!"

"I know this John." I explained. "And I'm only going to let Sherlock worry about it this once. If Sherlock is concerned that it's dangerous for me, then he has a right to question my safety." I held his gaze. "I trust him with my life."

Sherlock was silent for a long time before responding. "You win Tammy, go ahead."

"Thank you. John, could you leave us for a moment?"

"We've got to go." Sherlock stated.

"This will only take a moment."

John exhaled. "Fine! But I'd like to know what's going on between you two soon!"

I walked up to Sherlock; his eyes studied me suspiciously. "What is so important that you couldn't say in front of John?"

"Nothing." I stretched up on tiptoe, wrapped my arms around Sherlock's neck and kissed him on the lips. I felt him start, then I felt his hands cup my elbows. It wasn't a long kiss; it was a brief kiss. I pulled away. "You needed a better good luck kiss than the last one I gave you." I patted his coat lapels. "Now, go get them, Mind Reader!"

He rubbed my chin between his thumb and index finger. "I want to talk to you when I get back Riddler."

"I'll be waiting!"

* * *

It had been a nice afternoon, I'm afraid I stayed longer than I had intended. But Mrs. King was such a sweet lady, and I'd insisted on helping her clean up. She had a marvelous book collection and I'd remember that when growing up, Johnny had loved Batman. So, I decided on purchasing an original Batman comic book. Mrs. King let me have it at a discounted price.

As I walked down past Vauxhall Arches, I heard a cat meowing. I paused and looked around. There was a black car in the alleyway and it was running. I know I promised Sherlock that I wouldn't do anything, but I could see the kitten. It was playing in a box behind the lit up car and my conscience wouldn't allow me to walk away from it. I walked past the car, keeping an eye on it from the corner of my eye. I'd swiped one of John's guns from his room. Him being a military man, I suspected he had more than one lying around. It took a few tries for me to load the gun, but I'd seen enough westerns to know how to operate whatever kind of gun this was.

The kitten didn't run as I picked it up. It was a dirty, little thing, but I'm sure I could find someone to take the kitten in. The sound of footsteps caused me to look around and I saw this man, close to seven feet running at me. I backed away and began to reach in my purse for John's gun. Call me crazy, but the look on this man's face suggested that something was wrong. But the kitten made that task a lot harder to accomplish. Next thing I knew, the man had me by the arm and he threw me in the backseat of his car!

I screamed and the kitten let out a decisive screech of its own. I reached for the doorknob, but he grabbed my arm in a deathlike grip. I spun around and saw Sherlock and John behind us in the alleyway!

"SHERLOCK!" I screamed.

His head shot up and I caught a glimpse of the shock and actual fright in his eyes. "Go!" The horrible man ordered his driver. The car bolted and he turned towards me. "Can't have any witnesses. Especially one who knows Sherlock Holmes."

I screamed as his hands circled my throat. Suddenly, the driver shouted. "Stop! The boss says not to kill her!"

Bigfoot's hands hesitated on my throat. "Why?" Bigfoot leaned forward and peered at the laptop that had a blocked out image. I could tell that the man could see us, but not him.

The 'boss' typed out on the laptop. It said, don't hurt her. If you do, you and what's left of your family will regret it.

"Fine." He turned to me and shook a threatening finger. "You better shut up, or I'll break that thing's neck!"

I nodded in terror. I had John's gun, but now wasn't the time to use it. I wasn't in a good position to shoot the man. I had to wait and bide my time.


	10. 10: Slaying the Golem

Chapter ten

Slaying the Golem

I was dragged from the car, into the Hickman Museum. Fortunately this Bigfoot hadn't taken my purse from me, so the gun was still there. But when the door opened, the frightened kitten ran out, so it was all for nothing.

"Now," he hissed. "you better shut up!"

With that, he pushed the swinging doors open, dragged me through several corridors and I found myself in a sort of planetarium room.

A middle aged woman spun around, shielding her eyes from the projections. "Tom, is that you?" The man's grip on me tightened and I hit him, struggling to loosen his grip. But he was way too strong for me and I was certain that it would take four men to get him down with their bare hands. The woman turned her back to me and resumed her business. I was helpless to do anything as he caught ahold of the poor woman around the mouth and let me go. I fell to the ground, my throat burned as I gasped for air.

"GOLEM!" My heart jumped as I heard Sherlock shout at the man. The man froze, and then I heard a loud crunch as he snapped the woman's neck. I screamed in terror as her body slumped down next to me.

"Sherlock!"

"Tammy!" Sherlock shouted. "Are you all right?"

"Sherlock!" I screamed as the Golem vanished in the darkness. "Look out!"

From the sounds Sherlock was making, it sounded as if my warnings came too late. I pulled myself up to see the Golem had Sherlock around the throat just as the music crescendo built loudly.

"JOHN!" I screamed. "JOHN! HELP!"

My screams grew as I watched Sherlock try to break out of that animal's hold. "Golem!" John shouted as he leaped out of nowhere, gun pointed at Golem's head. O stopped screaming slowly. "Let him go, or I _will_ kill you."

I held my breath, seconds stretched into hours waiting for the Golem to make his move. Then, when he did, I wished he hadn't. He threw Sherlock to the side, kicked the gun out of John's hand and went for John! John got thrown aside and I watched as Sherlock jumped up and took a swing at Golem.

Sherlock was knocked to ground with a single blow. The music sounded like mad, scrambled circus tune and the lights flashed and changed repeatedly. I let out a shriek as once again Golem tried to strangle Sherlock. _Where was security?! How could anyone NOT be hearing this!? _

I reached for my purse, pulled out John's gun and decided to make a break towards the exit to go get more help. I glanced up just in time to see John leap atop of Golem's back, looking like a child clinging to a massive sequoia tree. The Golem dislodged John, grabbed Sherlock, by the seat of his pants and hurdled him in the direction of John.

The man, then ran to the nearest exit, which ensured that he'd run by me. I ducked and threw myself to the ground. Perfect timing, for John fired a few gunshots at Golem.

When all shots seemed to do no good, I bit my lip, aimed and fired. To my shock and surprise, I actually shot the man somewhere. He fell like a tree to the ground.

I stayed down until I heard approaching footsteps and Sherlock's commanding voice. "John! Lights! Now!"

I dropped the gun and tears fell down my cheeks in relief. The lights came on and I saw John run over to Golem's moving figure. I stood up and John started. "Tammy? Thank God!" he took the gun from me. "Are you all right?"

I nodded just I heard Sherlock walking briskly towards me. I tried not to let out an audible sob, but I failed as he pulled me into his arms. Sherlock gave me a slight shake as he tightly held onto me. "What were you doing down here?!" His tone changed from soft to demanding. "You should have been home by now!"

I wrapped my arms around his neck and I closed my eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" He shouted. "Why can't you do as I ask you?!"

I know he was upset and I should have known how terrifying it was for him to see me get dragged off by a killer. But then, he should be extending the same courtesy towards me! "You said I could go!" I shouted back at him. "Remember?! So don't go pining this on me!"

"You talked me into it!" He shouted back at me.

"I asked you politely!" I planted my hands on my hips and stepped away from him. "Besides, you're a foot taller than me and you've stated many times that your intellect is far superior than mine! You could have said no!"

"What kind of man would I be if I dishonored a request like the one you put to me?"

"Can we save this for later?" John asked. "Sherlock-"

"Sherlock, call Lestrade!" I snapped as I moved towards the nearest chair. "I'm going to sit down!" He moved towards me and I snapped at him. "Not now Sherlock! I want a moment's peace! Please! Back off!"

Sherlock dialed Lestrade, keeping a wary eye on my. "Hickman Gallery Lestrade and bring an ambulance. Yes, we got the Golem. He's alive…for now. Can't make any promises. Bye."

"Aunt Kenny?" I spun around to see…Robert walk through the door.

"Oh God," Sherlock groaned. "not him."

Robert stared at all of us and stepped back shouting. "Security! Security!" He turned towards us. "What are you all doing here?"

"Oh shut up Robert!" I screamed. "For God's sake, I was kidnapped, I had my life threatened and I shot a man all within an hour and I need some silence."

"I shot him." Sherlock said.

"Oh shut up Sherlock!" I shouted. "I did!"

"You didn't have gun!"

"I did too!"

"Actually," John said. "judging by the angle…and size of the hole. She did get him Sherlock."

"See!" I snapped.

Sherlock looked over the Golem's body and laughed. "Ha!"

"What?" I asked. "Did I kill him?"

"Don't worry Tammy," John assured me. "you got him in a good place he'll live…if he doesn't die of embarrassment."

I perked up. "Where'd I shoot him?" John was silent and I shouted. "I want to know!"

"Er…in the…buttocks."

I screamed in outrage. "I can't even shoot in a dignified place!" Sherlock began laughing harder at me. "You shut up!"

"Calm down Tammy." Robert said. "It's all right!"

"No it's not!" I screamed as I began to hyperventilate. "It's not all right! What have I done!? How _did I EVER I get mixed up with you two!?_"

I don't remember saying much after that; I was walking around in a circle, screaming words that didn't really make much sense. Suddenly, two hands spun me around and I vaguely saw Sherlock's face before I was slapped! I screamed at the sting I felt on my face and my senses slowly returned to me. Was I never to stop making a fool of myself in front of Sherlock? Then I heard John shout. I grabbed my cheek and looked up at Sherlock just before he fell to the floor, tackled by Robert! I stared at the two men, yelling at each other as they rolled around on the floor!

"Tammy," John asked. "can please you break that up?"

Robert and Sherlock were still locked in a fight and I approached them. "Will the two of you stop it?!" I demanded. "Please! Sherlock!"

"Tell _him_ to stop!" Sherlock shouted from under Robert. "I didn't start this!"

I grabbed a hold of Robert's fist as he drew it back to hit Sherlock. But knowing Sherlock, he would have dodged it and punched the floor. Possibly fracturing a few fingers in his hands, I shouldn't care, but that would be painful. "Stop it!"

"He hit you!" he shouted. "What else was I do but defend you?"

"I thank you for your defense, but I was in shock! What else was he supposed to do? You were doing nothing for me!"

Robert did as I asked and got off of Sherlock. Sherlock yanked at his coat and began brushing himself off. "I don't think you two are dating." Robert hissed, reminding me of Wormtongue. "You wouldn't stay with anyone who hit you like that!"

"You're right. I have a confession to make. I lied to you when you first met Sherlock. He wasn't my boyfriend, he heard everything and played along to make you go away."

Robert's face lit up. "He isn't? I knew it! I knew you were lying!"

"She said wasn't, which in this situation could be applied as a past tense." Sherlock said placing his hand on my shoulder. I reached up and gripped his hand tightly. "It's not the case between us now though."

Robert's face froze and then twisted in anger. "What?"

"Sherlock and I, quite recently in fact realized that our feelings ran deeper than friendship inspired." I could practically feel Sherlock smirking behind me; I could hear the mirth in his voice. "We decided to go ahead and see where things lead us."

"Sherlock?" John said. "Lestrade's here."

We spun around to see Lestrade, Sally and a man with a sour face had entered the room. They had a group of other people with them and unfortunately, Robert wouldn't shut up. "I don't understand!" He shouted. "We had a good thing going and you throw me over for this…this!"

Sherlock drew himself up indignantly at Robert's insult. I reached up and tousled the curls at the nape of his neck. "Well, this man saved my life. And besides, looks can be deceiving. Sherlock will grow on you. I remember thinking once when I first met him that he wasn't much to look at either. In fact, I thought he was quite plain looking."

Sherlock glowered down at me. "Really?"

"But now," I wrapped my arm around his waist, giving him a quick squeeze before pulling away. "I'm certain he's one of the handsomest men on the face of this earth." I kissed his cheek and moved away from him. "Now Sherlock, since I've recovered, you and John finish up and then take me home. By the way Robert, what are you doing here?"

"Visiting my Aunt Ken. She's a professor here."

"So sorry to hear you say that." Sherlock pointed to her fallen body. "She's over there."

Robert's face went ashen and he dashed over to her. Sherlock wrapped his arm around my waist and guided me to where the police were loading Golem on a stretcher. I watched them for a while and shook my head, attempting to clear it. I then let out a groan and leaned forward, studying the floor and stretching my back.

"You ok?" Lestrade asked me kindly.

"Yes. My back is stiff."

"Oh for God's sake Andersen," Sherlock snapped. "stop ogling Tammy's chest."

I straightened and drew my shirt top around me closer. The pickle faced man glowered at Sherlock. "I wasn't!"

"Well, in case you're forgotten, you're married!" Sherlock shot back. "Maybe someone should remind Sally Donovan of that once in a while."

"Hey!" Sally snapped.

"Sherlock," Lestrade said. "can we get back to work?"

"Besides," I said patiently, trying not to show Sherlock that I was pleased at him calling Andersen out. "those two aren't worth wasting your spit on."

"You!" Sally said focusing on me. "What are you anyway? You're always here with freak—

"Call him freak again and I'll rip your hair out of your head!" I snapped at Sally. "I've gone through a lot in the last hour and I am in just the mood to carry out my threats!"

Sally sneered. "I'd like to see you try!"

That did it! I lunged at Sally with a shriek! Sally didn't have time to defend herself before I had a handful of her black curls and I pulled! Sally screamed and latched onto her hair, attempting to keep me from pulling it out.

Sherlock caught me around the waist, laughing as he pulled my hands away. "Oh!" I shouted. "Let me go!"

He pulled me against his chest. "As much as I'd like to see you rip Sally's hair out, can we save this for a later date? You need to go home."

"_After _I rip her all her hair out."

"Sherlock's right Tammy." John said, slipping into his doctor tone of voice. "You're under a great deal of stress. I'll get you something to sedate you."

"No!" I declared loudly.

"Do it John."

"You're not the boss of me!" I said as I whipped around and glowered at Sherlock. "You have no right!"

"Tomorrow, I am locking you in your room," Sherlock said as if he hadn't heard a word I said. "and I'm taking the key with me."

"Considering what I've gone through this evening, I won't argue with you!" I held out my hands to him, expecting him to throw cuffs on me. "Lock me up and throw away the key!"

* * *

**Charli: I'm flattered that you look forward to my story every day. I'm also glad that you are pleased with attempts to capture Sherlock's character because is EXTREMLEY complex to capture. I hop this chapter was fun for you and hold on, because the next chapter has a monkey wrench coming!**


	11. 11: Walking into another scenario

Chapter eleven

Walking into another scenario

I admit it. It was lovely. It was wonderful not having to go anywhere. I lounged in John and Sherlock's flat, mainly in Sherlock's chair for the better part of the day. Then, I remember that thanksgiving was next week! I wasn't sure if they actually celebrated thanksgiving, but it was my favorite holiday. So, I brought down all my cookbooks, my notebook laptop and began planning a nice little feast. I'd informed everyone at the club that I'd start up again on December first.

I'd stretched out in front of the fireplace with a cup of cocoa, with extra marshmallows, to the right of me. To my left, Josh Groban with his beautiful rendition of 'the moon's a harsh mistress' on repeat and he was now singing it for the fifth time. Ridiculous, I know, but it suited my mood, I loved the song and I had it stuck in my head. Songwriters, are the most powerful hypnotists. They have the power change our moods for better or for worse. If a memory traps itself within the heart of a song, the song will haunt you forever.

"Tammy?" Sherlock said. I flipped over onto my side and he gazed down at me. I smiled broadly as he stood over me. "You've been busy tonight."

I nodded and rolled over onto my back. "Yes. I'm planning thanksgiving for next week."

"Why?"

"Figure it out for yourself Mind Reader, I am part American."

"We don't do thanksgiving here."

"I'm aware of that. But I'd like to do it anyway."

"Suit yourself." Sherlock then pulled a tiny kitten from his coat pocket and handed it to me. "I got this to replace the one you lost."

I gasped and stared at the tiny, fuzzy, white kitten. "Oh! Sherlock!" he shrugged out of his coat and tossed it over his chair. "She's beautiful!" he got down on the floor and lay down beside me. "You're really sweet when you want to be."

"Don't tell John."

"Where is he?"

"I persuaded him to visit Sarah." He wrapped his arm around my waist. "So, I've got you for the night."

"I like that." I lay on my back, trapping the kitten between us. "So, what did you have in mind?"

Sherlock rolled over on his side and looked down at me. His eyes were serious and I trembled a little at the deepness of his gaze. "You're the Riddler, so, unravel the riddle in my eyes."

I reached up and touched his face. "Do you want to kiss me?"

"Brilliant deduction Tammy."

Sherlock leaned down and kissed me on the mouth. I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck; temporarily forgetting about the adorable, kitten he'd just given me. Sherlock, really was testing the waters with this kiss. He opened his mouth slightly, catching my lower lip with his teeth and I felt my heart jump forward in my chest. Sherlock rolled ontop of me and I let out a murmured moan, as I slowly became aware of this position.

I knew Sherlock well enough to know that he wouldn't take advantage of me. His massive intellect certainly must have filed away that I wasn't giving my virginity to _any _man until I was married. And that included Sherlock Holmes, no matter how tempting the moment. His hands stayed respectfully behind my shoulders, so he wasn't really directly on top of me. Still, it was delicious, warmth that spread throughout my body. Yet, this warmth had a cold, electrical twinge along with it.

Sherlock broke the kiss and looked down at me. "You're nervous."

I nodded and decided to slip into my 'Elizabeth Bennett' mode, hoping to turn the atmosphere. "Indeed. Remember Sherlock, nothing…in…regards to going to engaging in intercourse together, is going to happen between us."

He looked at me as if I were an idiot. "I know that."

"Good." I exhaled in relief. "I forget from time to time that you're not like most men."

"Fortunately for you, I'm not like most men. So," he slid his hand down my side, causing me to giggle and his eyebrows rose. "you're ticklish?"

"Maybe." A light flashed in his eyes and I shrieked. "Sherlock! Don't!" he did, he poked me in the side and I laughed. "No!"

He laughed with me, a rich, baritone laugh that made me laugh harder. Once I started coughing did he stop. I looked up at him, to see him looking down on me, it was a strange look in his eyes, and I'd never seen it before. Then, I felt his long fingers on my exposed abdomen, and I jumped. No man, not even Robert had touched me in such a manner. With Sherlock, it was different; it was as if he were conducting an experiment. He was watching me, seeing what kind of an affect that his touch could have on me. I was a bug under his microscope and I was squirming.

"Sherlock." I croaked. Then, I felt his lips on my skin. I gasped and I blush to admit, I couldn't keep a moan from escaping my lips. "Sherlock!" He pressed another kiss to my stomach, before blowing a raspberry on my stomach. I shrieked. "Sherlock!" He laughed at my outrage. "Why you!"

"Oh god." That was John's voice. Sherlock and I both jumped and looked towards the door to see a shocked, John Watson standing in the doorway, with his mouth hanging open.

I blushed and looked at Sherlock, who'd turned into an emotionless statue. "What are you doing here?"

John exhaled and shook his head. "I forgot my coat." He ran his hand across his face. "Did I just…did I just interrupt…what I thought I was interrupting?"

"Oh grow up John," Sherlock said getting up off me and pulling me up from the ground. "we weren't doing anything."

"Not doing," John shook his head in amazement. "then what _we're _you doing? And with Tammy! You should have more respect for her!"

"I hold her in the highest respect." He commented brushing off his coat. "And frankly John, what goes on between Tammy and I is none of your concern."

"Oh really?" John crossed his arms over his chest. His gaze was firm and determined and I could see the military in him come out in his eyes at that moment. He appeared as if he was going to unleash his fury on a private that simply refused to learn. "You listen to me Sherlock. Tammy is a wonderful girl, and you, you're not used to relationships." Sherlock's brows rose in amusement. "So, pardon me if I do seem nosy, but I do have a responsibility to make sure that you, in your typical careless manner, don't hurt her."

Sherlock turned to me. "You have quite the champion Tammy."

I smiled. "Indeed. Thank you John. But, try not to be too rough on Sherlock." I stooped down and picked up the kitten. "Look, Sherlock picked up Rumpleteazer for me. Isn't she sweet?"

"Rumpleteazer?" Sherlock asked with a wrinkled face. "What kind of a name is that?"

"A good one," John said, rubbing Rumpleteazer's chin with his finger, which she attacked in earnest. "feisty isn't she?"

"Yes. But she's sweet." I looked at Sherlock. "And it was really sweet of you to bring her to me."

"Well, after your amazing defense of me and your nearly tragic death-

"Stop being so dramatic." I said. "I was kidnapped, not killed."

"And you should have died in the car." He frowned. "I don't know why. Why, did his boss tell him not to kill you? It doesn't make sense!"

I shrugged. "I don't know Sherlock." I stood up and went to the refrigerator. "There's no milk."

John got into his coat. "I'll get some."

"Actually, I can run down to the corner and get some." I said glancing at Sherlock who was sitting on his chair, with his feet on the seat. "Sherlock, is obviously busy, so maybe he'll be out of his 'mind palace' by the time I get back."

He nodded. "Right. I'll walk you down the steps."

"Thanks John." I grabbed my coat. "But I suspect you want to talk to talk more about Sherlock and I without him present."

He nodded as he shut the apartment door. "Yes. So, what is going on between you? Are you two dating or what?"

"We are doing a mixture of courtship, dating and casual acquaintances."

"Well, what I saw Sherlock doing was _definitely _not casual." He said. "I still can't believe this. When did all this happen?"

I laughed. "The day of the first bombing. He's so funny John, I wasn't expecting it! He nearly shocked me out of my seat!"

John rolled his eyes. "I can imagine. You and Sherlock! Who'd have thought?"

"I hoped, but wasn't expecting it. I do care for him John."

"You're in love with him." John stated. "I can tell."

I nodded. "Yes. But, I'm not going to tell him that."

"Why not?"

"This is Sherlock we are talking about John. He's just getting comfortable around me, a little too comfortable I think at times."

"So, are you two going to…get married?" the idea of being Sherlock's wife stopped me dead in my tracks. Not that the idea was bad, it sounded rather nice, but it was down right impossible. "It's just you seem like the kind of woman who'd want to raise a family."

"You're correct John, but again, this is Sherlock. We have this kind of relationship that's out of a song. Like, 'You don't have to say you love me,' you know what I mean."

"That's not much promise for the future."

"I know, I know what I'm getting into as well."

John nodded. "And all because you answered a riddle out of thin air!" I laughed, as did he. "I'll see you later then, tell Sherlock I said bye."

"I will."

I then walked briskly down the street. The air was warmer than it had been the last few nights. Suddenly, an odd, cold feeling washed over me, as if someone had just stomped all over my grave. I didn't know why I felt this way and I had felt it once before. I was working and my father was in the hospital and suddenly I had this feeling. I called and insisted that they check on my father. The long delay told me what they soon told me; my father had died minutes after my call.

I hurried back to the apartment as soon as possible. I wasn't surprised when I realized that Sherlock was gone. I pulled out my phone and texted him and John. Neither man answered me. Now, it's not like me to panic, but I had this gut feeling that something was wrong.

I glanced around the apartment, and then I noticed Sherlock's laptop was out. He didn't bother to put a password on it, for who would risk his wrath by tampering with his stuff? I opened it and pressed the enter key. He had several windows open, one was to his website and he'd sent a message to someone, asking them to meet him at a pool tonight. Now, I didn't have known what pool, so I checked his browsing history. And I was successful. The pool he mentioned was the Bristol south swimming pool.

I got a warmer coat and headed down the stairs to flag a taxi. Neither man answered my texts. I shot Sherlock an urgent one. _I've got a funny feeling that you and John are in danger and I'd like to know what it is. I'm really worried on this end. _Again, I still received no response.

I don't remember how long the ride took, and maybe I was imagining things. I glanced at my phone for the fifteen thousandth time and I didn't see a message. I went straight towards the pool facilities. Something, was just plain wrong. The air, it had an overwhelming sense of evil. I decided to try a side door, instead of a front door and was rewarded with it being unlocked.

I walked through several corridors and I heard the sound of voices talking. One voice sounded very familiar. It almost sounded like Johnny. But it couldn't be him. Could it? "Do you know what happens if you don't leave me alone Sherlock?" he asked. "Do you?"

"Oh let me guess," that was definitely Sherlock. I knew that voice _anywhere._ "I get killed?"

"Kill you? Hmm, no, don't be obvious."

I pushed the swinging door open and found myself in this huge room with a huge pool. And I instantly realized that my instinct had caused me to walk into another huge scenario. John was standing there, with what I assumed were bombs strapped to his chest. Sherlock, had a gun pointed to my brother's forehead. But why? What was going on? Why was my brother here and why did Sherlock have a gun pointed at his head? God good, Johnny couldn't be the insane bomber?! Could he?

"I'm going to kill you anyway, someday. I don't want to rush it though. I'm saving it up for something special." I couldn't believe it. I sank against the wall in shock. My brother, my last living relative, was threatening to kill Sherlock Holmes, the man I was in love with. Silent tears, leaked down my cheeks. "If you don't stop trying…I will burn you. I will burn the heart out of you.

"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one."

"But we both know that's not quite true." His voice changed. "There's a woman." The gun wavered in Sherlock's hand for a moment. "Tammy Taylor."

"You will leave her out of this." Sherlock stated firmly. "This doesn't concern her."

"You really should stay away from her." Johnny said. "She's too good for you."

At this point, I had to make my presence known. "Actually, I have the right to chose who I wish to associate with." I said as I came out through the side door. All three heads turned towards me. The moment all the men laid eyes on me, their faces went as pale as death. "And unfortunately, this does concern me." I wiped my eyes. "and I wish to God it didn't."

"Tammy," Sherlock stated urgently. "Get out of here. Now!"

I shook my head. "I can't." I turned to Johnny. "Or can I leave?"

He frowned at me. "Why are you here?"

"Sherlock left his laptop on." I turned to him. "I used some of his deduction skills that he passed onto me to figure out where he was going."

Johnny nodded. "You always were curious as a child."

"Do you know him Tammy?" John asked.

I nodded. "Yes." My voice broke. "Unfortunately, I do know him, too well. John, Sherlock, meet my brother."

Sherlock's eyes widened and he demanded. "Your brother is James Moriarty?"


	12. 12: A deal with the devil

Chapter twelve

A deal with the devil

"Actually," Johnny, or really James now, spoke. "she didn't know. I tried getting information about you out of her, but she really doesn't like to talk about you."

Sherlock's eyes locked onto me. "Why didn't you tell me Tammy?"

"I didn't know he was involved in a case with you!" I said. "We've been missing each other! We've barely even had time to talk! And you ordered me to stay in my flat today!"

"And he made up for it by buying you that kitten." James said. "I saw you two upstairs," he laughed at Sherlock. "and you say you don't have a heart. I think I've found it."

"You were spying on us?" I shouted.

"Oh I couldn't help keeping an eye on my dear sister and my dearest enemy."

"You're insane!" I glowered at James. "How could you? You lied to me! You told me you were a government agent!"

"Yeah. I lied, I know." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You're really a gullible girl, Tammy."

"You weren't happy to see me," I said. "you wanted to find out about Sherlock. Unfortunately, I know as much about Sherlock as the next person."

"Oh come on, you're his girlfriend. You know him better than anyone."

"I'd have to be Sherlock Holmes, to know him better than anyone. We only decided to attempt a relationship the day you set off the first gas bomb."

"That's quite romantic." He said sarcastically. "Really Sherlock?"

"I don't think you should criticize him." I stared at him. "You're a bloody murderer!"

"My hands are clean." He said, holding them up for me to see. "I never set the bombs off."

"I don't believe you."

"I'm your brother."

"Who I haven't seen for over ten years!" I snapped at him. "And look at what you've become! Mother would be so disappointed in you." My words, shouldn't have hit him hard, but they did. I saw him flinch. Father had told me before he passed away, that I resembled her; I hoped for everyone's sake, that he'd spoken true. "I'm glad she's not here to see what you've become."

"Tammy, leave now." He said. "I won't make this offer again."

I stood by Sherlock, my hands still trembled. "You said you wouldn't hurt me once. I remember when you stood up for me and protected me from bullies. I'm sad to see that you've become a bully."

"Tammy," Sherlock said. "leave, now. Sister or not, it won't make any difference to him."

I ignored him. "I like it where I am."

"Tammy," John said. "just go, we'll be fine."

I shook my head. "It's Johnny's call."

"James Moriarty." Sherlock commented.

"I'm sure he's agreed that I've had enough pain in my life and I don't need more. So, Johnny, I mean James, or whatever your name is now. Either let all three of us walk out of here together, or, you can set the bomb off and destroy all three of us."

"Don't be a fool Tammy." James said. "I'm not going to kill you."

"So, are they free to leave? John and Sherlock won't get blown up?"

James frowned at me. "I don't like being ordered around like this Tammy."

"Either this or you blow me up." I said. "That way, you can't hurt me again. I can leave here, knowing that my only friends I have in the world are still alive. Or, you can blow all three of us up together, since we're so close to bomb, I'm certain it won't hurt much."

He sneered. "You're like _him_, always good at twisting ones arm."

"Only yours at this moment."

He nodded. "All right, we'll haggle." He rubbed his chin. "How about this? I let Watson and Sherlock go, on one condition and I won't bother them again."

"What's the condition?"

"Don't listen Tammy." Sherlock said.

"Oh don't worry Sherlock," James said. "it doesn't really concern you." He smirked at me. "You just have to breakup with Sherlock."

I stared at him, his words not sinking in completely. "What do you mean?"

"I'm saying, the two of you stop dating."

"Oh don't be ridiculous," Sherlock said. "we haven't even gone out for dinner or anything like that!"

"Ho!" James laughed. "you're a slow mover."

"What are the conditions?" I asked, wanting to get out of this dangerous triangle this instance.

Sherlock groaned. "Ugh, Tammy, you're not considering this are you?"

"I am." I stepped towards James. "What are the conditions?"

"You move out of Baker Street immediately." His eyes gleamed with a coldness that made me shiver. "Find better accommodations."

"I'll move into my club."

"Fine. And…the two of you will never, ever come into contact with each other."

I nodded. "All right. I promise."

"Tammy." Sherlock snapped. "Will you stay out of this? I have everything under control!"

"I can see that." I ignored him and turned back to James. "I'd like to request that these conditions become reality on the first day of the New Year."

"Why?"

I glowered at him. "Because I don't want to be alone during Christmas. You promised me that I could make a request of you and you'd make up for all those years you weren't there. Unless your black heart has closed completely closed itself to me, this is the only request I wish that you'd fulfill for me."

I held his gaze, watching those cold, dark eyes of his search my face. Then, he held out his hand. "I agree."

I shook his hand and evil washed over me in waves. I pulled free and stepped back. "Goodbye Jim."

"You can still call me Johnny." He said. "James Moriarty is my business alias."

"No." I shook my head. "Johnny's dead. And James Moriarty is no friend of mine."

He glowered at me for a long time before turning and focusing his attention on Sherlock. "Well, I better be off. So nice to have had a proper chat."

Sherlock, still had the gun pointed to James's head. "What if I was to kill you now? Right now?"

"Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face." James widened his eyes in mock surprised and I turned aside. "Because I'd be surprised Sherlock, really I would. And just a teensy bit disappointed. Blowing out my brains, in front of my sister and your soon to be ex-girlfriend." He shook his head. "She'd never forgive you for that."

"Don't bet on that." I muttered as I turned aside.

"And of course you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long." He turned and walked past me, stopping and pressing a brotherly kiss on my forehead to annoy Sherlock and completely gross me out. I fought the urge to slap him, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how he really disgusted me. "Bye Tammy, chaio, Sherlock Holmes."

"Catch…. You… later." Sherlock said as he stepped towards John.

"No you won't!" James sing-songed as he shut the door.

I sank to my knees as numbness filled my body. Sherlock got John out of the jacket with the bombs and slid it down past me, to the far end of the pool. I wasn't really registering anything, like John; I was shocked over all that had transpired. I turned to look at both men, who were breathing heavily and for a moment that's all I heard.

Sherlock then decided to do a little pacing, rubbing the back of his head with a loaded gun. I rolled my eyes. Had he never heard of gun safety before?

"You ok?" John asked.

"Me?" Sherlock said quickly. "Yeah. Fine." Then I watched as Sherlock morphed into Fonzie. At least, Fonzie when he was being forced to say that he was wrong and he just couldn't find the words. He also began slapping the gun on the side of his leg. "That uh, thing that you, uhm, did, that you offered to do. That was uhm…good."

"I am glad no one saw that." John said quietly.

"Saw what?" I asked.

"Sherlock, ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool." I shook my head and began chuckling at the bland way John was delivering the line. "People might talk."

Sherlock exhaled. "People do little else." He then turned towards me and my heart jumped in my throat at the look of anger in his eyes. "And you." He walked towards me. "What were _you _doing here?"

"I was worried."

"You were worried? I left a note for you!"

"Where?" I demanded. "I didn't see a note!"

"With your recipes!"

I exhaled. "You deduced wrong. After finding you gone, I didn't check my recipe area for a note, but I checked everywhere else."

"How did you know how to find,

"Your laptop history."

"I need to put a password on now." He muttered before raising his voice. "And why'd you promise your brother that you'd break up with me?" He demanded as he pulled me up from my position on the ground. "We only just got started, technically, two or three days ago!"

"Damn it Sherlock!" John shouted at him. Sherlock and I jumped, both taken by surprise at John's outburst. "Inspite of your 'massive intellect' you can't deduce that she did it to keep you safe!"

Sherlock looked to me and spoke, his tone snappish. "What makes you think I can't take care of myself?"

"Because he is you!" I shouted. "A darker, evil side of you! Why shouldn't I be concerned? And don't you dare say it's because you're smarter than him because I know that is a possibility."

"Are you saying he's smarter than me?"

"No! I'm saying he's evil! Evil has no limitations and goodness does. He won't play fair!"

"You forgot that I defeated him Tammy." He said. "Five times today."

"Four."

"Five! And I insist that you break this promise you gave him."

"I shook his hand and I promised."

"Promises with the devil don't pay off." He studied me. "I still don't completely understand why you did that!"

"Oh for God's sake Sherlock," John said. "she's in love with you!"

I gasped and looked up at Sherlock; he was staring at me in stunned surprise. I covered my mouth as tears filled my eyes and bile rose in my throat. I couldn't stand the long silence and Sherlock's gaze. I turn and ran out of the room, with John's voice still yelling at Sherlock. I closed my ears, attempting to blot out the words that rolled around in my head. For a moment, I stopped, and focused on a tile square in front of me. I think I was attempting to erase the events from moments ago clearly from my head.

Arms grabbed me from behind and I screamed until I realized that Sherlock had caught up with me. John was right behind him. Sherlock wrapped and arm around my waist and continued walking towards the exit.

"Stop it with the dramatics Tammy, it's not going to help you any." He stated casually as if he hadn't heard a single word John had hurled at his head. "Now, we've all had a long day and we're all saying things we don't mean." Those words chilled me to the bone. "Now, Mrs. Hudson is putting on tea and cocoa, so it should be ready for us by the time we arrive."


	13. 13: A date

Chapter thirteen

A date

I was still somewhat emotionally drained from last night's events. I hadn't seen John or Sherlock since then and I'd blocked Moriarty's number. He wasn't family anymore, he was my enemy. I decided to cook. I decided to bake several batches of Mrs. Fields, double chocolate dream cookies and then sit down to watch 'Somewhere in time' with a box of tissues and a huge glass of milk. What else was one supposed to do after getting out of such an emotional tornado?

I was right at the moment where Richard and Elise finally meet for the first time, when my doorbell rang. I groaned and walked to the door with my mouthful of a cookie and a milk moustache. I grabbed a fresh cookie, prepared to hand it to Sherlock or John before politely asking that they leave me alone. I was stunned when I saw Sherlock's brother Mycroft, standing there.

He at least had the decency to shift uncomfortably, for my silk, white lounge dress could be interpreted as intimate apparel. "I'm sorry, I should have assumed that you were still tired from last night's events. Most courageous of you."

"Courage had nothing to do with it."

"Ahh yes," he nodded. "love. A powerful motivator."

"How did you, never mind, your eyes and ears are everywhere. Besides, you're a Holmes, end of deduction." I groaned. "John really should keep his mouth shut."

Sherlock wasn't an idiot. My actions alone practically screamed to him that what John said was the truth. I'd surrendered my emotions that I'd been holding back and cried in the taxi. John, was the only one who offered me a shoulder to cry on. Sherlock, he just looked uncomfortable with my display of human emotions.

Then upon exiting the taxi, I got sick all over him. It was an accident! I swear it! It just happened. I was expecting him to start shouting at me, but he simply let out a loud groan of disgust. Mrs. Hudson and John fussed over me while Sherlock went to take a shower and immediately sent his suit out to the cleaners. After I had a cup of cocoa, John gave me something to help me sleep and I fell asleep in my clothes.

Sherlock doesn't deserve your love." He said kindly, as kind as Mycroft could be. "Your brother, actually did you a favor."

"I'd prefer to be the judge of that." I shook my head, shaking all my prior thoughts from my head. "Now, what do you want?"

"May I come in?"

I didn't even blink. "No."

"Not surprised." He said. "You're rather old fashioned, that much is obvious, as you still haven't slept with any man. Of course you wouldn't allow a man you've met only once into your flat."

I nodded, having heard all this about my being a virgin a thousand times over. "Indeed. And if your brother, had proposed to me and we'd married at least he'd have the satisfaction of knowing that even though I didn't know where he was in the world, that my head and heart decided that he was worth waiting for."

"Admirable." Mycroft's shoulder's sagged and he exhaled. "I'm well aware that you and Sherlock don't like me,"

"You annoy me." I stated. "There's a difference between annoying and not liking."

He frowned. "What could I have done to annoy you?"

"Your manners are snobbish and I don't really care for the way you speak, so cold and condescending."

"I shall try to improve in that area." He cleared his throat. "Well, I am here at my mother's request."

I frowned. "Your mother?"

"Yes, Sherlock's and mine. She's heard about you and she's decided that she'd like to meet you tonight. She's arranging a dinner party for tonight and I suggest you make it."

I stared at him. "Wow! How can I refuse such a charming invitation?"

"Sorry. It's just…Mummy is a little overbearing."

"And you take after her in that area?"

"A little. I shall have transportation waiting here for you at 5:30."

"Thank you. I believe I can make it. How shall I dress? Casual?"

He shook his head. "Dressy. Be sure to bring a change of clothes. It's a bit of a drive and you'll definitely have to sleep over."

"Thank you for the warning. And is Sherlock coming?"

Mycroft shifted. "He told me to…go get lost."

"A lot stronger than that I'll venture." I said. "I'll get him to come if you'd like me to."

"Please." He smiled. "You could be good for Sherlock, it's just a shame he's not good enough for you."

"It's the puzzle of life Mycroft. No piece in a puzzle is good for just any puzzle piece. Only the piece, that it was made to fit with, is the perfect fit. Even then, it's not a perfect shape. But, they were made to be together. And who are we to judge whose perfect for someone?"

He mussed. "That was most eloquent Tammy. I see now why my brother loves you."

I stared at him. "Sherlock _is not _in love with me."

"In his own way, he is." Mycroft said. "He's just not understanding what's going on inside his heart at this moment."

"What makes you so certain?" I asked. "We weren't really even dating to begin with! Now, we probably won't be dating due to circumstances."

"You two have been dating a lot longer than you realize it." he shifted. "I watched Sherlock when I was last here. You've enslaved his eyes, they follow you wherever you go." I trembled slightly. "You know he loves you, but in light of the situation, you're turning every emotion off. He'll never tell you, but I thought you'd deserve to know his feelings at least."

"Good day Mycroft." I stated handing him the cookie I still held in my hand. "I'll be there with Sherlock this evening."

"Fine." He took the cookie and examined it. "Homemade I presume?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

"If Sherlock doesn't go willingly with me, I may twist the truth a bit, involving you."

"Oh I see," he smirked. "you're going to make him jealous?"

"Maybe a little." I said. "I'm not even sure it will work."

"Oh, it'll work. Feel free to use my name as freely as you wish. Now, I must be off." He trotted down the stairs. "Good day Tammy, a pleasure seeing you again."

"See you tonight Mycroft."

* * *

I'd had all day to put my plan into action. I went out and bought a new dress, a deliciously, sexy, black cocktail dress. It was short and showed off quite a bit of my legs. It was sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline; I added a short sleeve floral, black, lace jacket to complete the look. I let my hair hang loose, added a diamond bracelet, and a strappy, set of black heels. My makeup was light, just enough to enhance my features, but my lipstick was an alarming shade of red that screamed 'kiss me.' Now I wasn't sure if Sherlock was seducable, but I was going to find out! I didn't want Sherlock to see my outfit, so I put on my knee length coat. He'd go crazy trying to deduce what I was wearing under my coat.

I trotted down the stairs and hesitated outside the door. I decided to take act as if nothing had happened and then I tapped on Sherlock's door. "Come in." He barked.

I pushed the door open and his head snapped in my direction. "You look bored." I commented.

"You're going out on a date." He accused me. "You're wearing Elizabeth's Taylor, 'Passion' recommended for nighttime use. You rarely wear makeup unless you're doing a show, but it's not December first yet. It's rather seductive and bold for you."

"Yes, I've got a date," I laughed. "and you're the lucky devil who's taking me out."

He frowned. "Really?"

"If not I'll have to go with someone else. So, why don't you go get a shower and dress? We still have time for you to get ready."

"First," he asked, folding his hands. "where are we going?"

"Your mother has requested my presence for dinner."

The moment I spoke those words, Sherlock jumped out of his chair. "I am not going to my parent's house!" he snapped. "I won't!"

"Why not?"

"I am _not_ going."

I exhaled. "Fine." I pulled out my cellphone. "I shall just have to call Mycroft and tell him to come pick me up."

"Wait a minute." He snapped as he walked towards me. "What does Mycroft have to do with this?"

"He asked me to go with him as _his_ date. I told him I'd go with him as a friend if you turned me down." Anger flashed in Sherlock's eyes and I took a small step back. "Is something wrong?"

"You're lying to me aren't you?" he demanded.

I shook my head. Mycroft had asked me to come to his parent's house. "No, I'm not, Mycroft asked me to come with him and meet his parents." Sherlock glowered at me; I swung my hands back and forth, casually allowing Sherlock a glimpse of what little I was wearing underneath this coat. Sure enough, his eyes narrowed. "It seems a shame that's he's going to get to walk in with me on his arm." I lowered my lashes just a little. "I was really hoping you'd take me."

Sherlock stood up, taking off his red, silken robe, revealing that he'd dressed in a black suit with a bright white top. "Shall we?"

I stared at him as he walked towards me and took hold of my arm. "You knew?"

He nodded. "Of course, you're quite readable Tammy."

"Good to know."

"But what _are _you wearing under there?" I batted his curious hand away from my coat. "Aren't you going to be cold?"

"Probably. But I want to wear this dress. I just bought it!"

"Do you have your inhaler?"

"Yes. Honestly!"

"I just want to make sure you're all right for tonight." He said. "And I want to warn you. You think that this is going to be an average family meeting for dinner, but it won't be!"

"Sherlock," I said patiently. "The world average and your last name do not belong in the same sentence. I know what to expect and I have armed myself for it. Trust me, I will shock the daylights out of everyone."

"Easier said than done." He huffed, as he walked out of the door, with me behind him.

"I'm looking forward to meeting your parents."

Sherlock groaned. "Want to bet?"

"I'm not betting with you." I stated. "The odds are highly in your favor of you winning. Your parents can't be half as bad as you make them out to be."

Sherlock muttered something. "You'll see Tammy."


	14. 14: A promise of gravity

Chapter fourteen

A promise of gravity

Mycroft had thought of everything. The limousine had everything from heated seats, down to champagne and strawberries. As for music, he'd selected Julian Ovenden, how he knew I liked him I don't know. Sherlock and I didn't talk much for the hour ride; he was glaring the entire time like an unhappy child. The atmosphere, it had changed between us, it wasn't comfortable anymore now thanks to John's big mouth. It was awkwardly smothering.

When we arrived at the huge estate, I was stunned. It was…spectacular! "Close your mouth Tammy." Sherlock said. "Marvelous piece of junk isn't it?"

"It's…beautiful Sherlock. Amazing." I noticed Mycroft waiting for us at the bottom of the steps. "Mycroft's waiting."

Sherlock huffed. "I bet." He took off his seatbelt. "Crawl over me."

I stared. "Why?"

"Because I am not going to let Mycroft get the door for you."

I did as he asked. "He all ready knows that you got in first, not me. After all, to let anyone in before you, would be beneath you."

Sherlock tilted his head and looked at me. "That's not true."

"Really?" I suddenly snapped at him. "If you'd had opened the door for me and let me in, you would have had the privilege of helping me out of my seat!"

Sherlock frowned and studied me. The car came to a stop and Mycroft opened the door. "Hello Sherlock." No response. "For God's sake, stop pouting and let Tammy out."

Sherlock got out and yanked his coat into place. I slid over, sliding my legs out carefully, so as not to expose myself. Nevertheless, both men's eyes went to my legs. Now, I was questioning the wisdom of picking such a dress. But I'd fallen in love with it the moment I'd seen it.

"Perhaps I should have mentioned," Mycroft said. "that Mummy is very conservative."

I frowned. "Thanks for telling me. Shall I fly back to London and purchase a new dress?!"

"Ignore him Tammy," Sherlock said taking my arm. "you'd look fine in a burlap bag."

I stared at him as he tugged me up the stairs. "I'm not sure if I like that compliment or not."

"Take it anyway that you like it." he stated as he opened the front door and let me in first.

I frowned slightly, then stared as I eyed the magnificent house. I felt like Maria in 'Sound of music' when she first walked inside the Von Trapp mansion. In fact, it was built _exactly _the same.

As if reading my mind, Sherlock spoke. "Mother loved the musical. She loves Rogers and Hammerstein. Father built it for her, sort of a bribe for her to accept his marriage proposal."

"Sherlock," Mycroft said stiffly. "why don't you help Tammy out of her coat?"

Sherlock huffed and reached for my coat. "Let me unbutton it first Sherlock."

I said it quietly, but Mycroft still heard it. "You must forgive him, he doesn't have much experience with this sort of thing."

"That's good. A man who has experience must have had a lot of women to practice on."

Mycroft's face soured, but only for a second. His eyes widened as he studied my dress and me. "Conservative or not," he didn't even dare to hide his appreciation. "mother cannot deny that you are a stunning girl."

That surprised me. Mycroft was noticing me and I wasn't sure I was happy about that. Sherlock turned around from where he'd hung my coat up and he paused. It was only five seconds, but those five seconds under the heat of his gaze, felt like five minutes.

Then, he turned to Mycroft. "Stop drooling Mycroft, she's my date."

"I am?!" the words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"You asked me, remember?" Sherlock snorted as he took my arm and guided me down the hallway. "I believe your exact words were that I was the lucky devil who was taking you out. Am I right?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Good." He led me in the living room. It was exquisitely decorated, but Sherlock didn't allow me time to admire it, for he immediately started snapping at me. "Unless you want Mycroft developing a crush on you, stay away from him."

"I can talk to your brother Sherlock." I stared at him. What had gotten into him? "I'm not interested in Mycroft! I won't lead him on, he knows where I stand."

"In that dress, what man thinks about a woman's feeling when his brain is pounding madly?" He spat the words at me, but they still warmed and chilled me to the bone. I stiffened as heat flushed down my body and all over me.

"Sherlock."

He grabbed my hands and pinned them over my head, with one hand, his long fingers digging slightly into my wrists. "You have no idea," he bit out. "how desirable you look at this moment, do you?" I gasped as he leaned forward; his hot breath swirled around my ear. "You look like a goddess in black. But just because we are both brothers don't assume that you're safe from Mycroft's advances."

I stared at him. "You're…jealous."

He tilted his head slightly to the side, breathing into my hair. "Jealous? Me? Never!"

"Then what-

"Possessive?" His other hand slid down to grip my thigh. I let out a quiet cry. "Yes!"

"Sherlock, what are you," words died as he kissed the pulse point on my neck. I whimpered as his lips reduced me to a stuttering, pile of clay in his hands. What _had _gotten into him? Was he on drugs or something?! Had he forgotten that we weren't going to be a couple anymore in a month? Why was he doing this? Mycroft wanted us to become attached so that when we broke up, the pain would burn and smart. Sherlock, was playing directly into his hands, literally. His hand slowly crept up my thigh and I twitched against him and the feelings that were burying me alive in waves of pleasure. He released my other hand so he could cup my hips in both his hands. Sherlock then yanked me hard against his body, allowing me to feel as much of him possible through the material. "Sherlock," I croaked as I clutched his coat lapels. "we can't

"Sherlock?"

at the sound of an approaching, female voice he stepped away from me. With shaking hands, I pulled my skirt back down around me. I stepped away from him and turned my back to him, I couldn't look him in the eye.

Mrs. Holmes, I assumed, was an attractive middle aged woman. She had curly, black hair like Sherlock, but her hair had a few strands of gray. She was dressed conservatively and her eyes raked me over, as if I was a bug under a microscope. I saw displeasure fill her eyes and I wished that I had thought better of my outfit.

"Hello mother." Sherlock said, walking towards her to give her a dutiful kiss on her cheek. "Where's father?"

"Speaking to the kitchen staff over the drinks." She looked at me. "And this is the Tammy Taylor I've heard so much about?"

I smiled nervously, I grew more nervous when Sherlock advanced towards me with those eyes of his staring straight through me. "Yes. Please call me Tammy."

Sherlock placed his arm around my waist and I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Isn't she beautiful mother?"

Now I was certain I was going crazy. He'd _never _ever, said I looked like anything more than fine. Now, he'd called me a goddess and beautiful all in a minute. Maybe it was an act for his family. But then, why'd he pin me against the wall like that? Probably so when Mycroft came in the room, he'd see my neck was slightly red and he'd deduce that Sherlock and I'd been up to something.

"She doesn't appear used to your terms of endearment." She shook her head disapprovingly. "You're going to loose her Sherlock. I've told you before, women like to be told things."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and again, I spoke up in his defense. "Actually, I am used to Sherlock's terms of endearment and abuse." I smiled at him. "It's just…his voice unravels me every time."

"Indeed." Mycroft said, coming in from behind us. "Sherlock's voice does have strange effects on people." He smiled, that sickening smile of his. "You're defending my brother's short-comings again. Very noble of you, but I assure you, he can stick up for himself."

"Indeed. But Sherlock makes it a living of his to stick up and help people. Rarely does he stick up for himself, so I think I'll make it my living, when necessary, to stick up for him."

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock stifled a groan and turned around to face his father. He was a little taller than Sherlock, but he favored Mycroft in looks. A little heavy seat with a thinning hairline. From the look he gave me, I ventured that he was somewhat of a philanderer. I leaned closer into Sherlock's side, letting my body language suggest to him that we were a couple who were really in love and dating.

Sherlock squeezed my side. "This…is Tammy." Again, he was using that voice. And when I mean _that _voice, I met the voice that never failed to make me tremble. Honestly, he said my name as if I was a chocolate resting on his tongue.

"Pardon me sir," all eyes went towards the butler who had my overnight bag in hand. "which room shall I place Miss Taylor's room?"

Mrs. Holmes started to speak, but Sherlock cut me off. "In my room. Where else would it be going?" The blood drained out of my face and I couldn't look at him, in fact I didn't know where to look. Everyone in the room was staring at us and I rubbed my forehead in embarrassment. Sherlock, as always in these situations, was the only one with words. "Tammy, you were wondering what the view is like from the roof. Since dinner is going to be 10-15 minutes late, why don't we go see?"

I nodded and forced a smile. "Please, excuse us."

Mrs. Holmes nodded coldly. "Of course."

I could only imagine the looks that everyone was giving us. Sherlock guided me towards a closet that was marked 'Elevator' and we got in. I was silent as Sherlock pushed the button that led us to the roof. I held my breath, uncertain of what to say or do.

"You can talk now." Sherlock spoke, gazing around him. "They won't hear you."

"I-I can't believe," I croaked out. "that…you just said that….in front of your family." The elevator opened and Sherlock guided me outside. I watched to the edge of the roof and gazed across the sky. "God knows…what they think of me."

Sherlock snorted behind me. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me Sherlock!" I spun around, barely noting him taking off his coat. "I-I must have looked like a…slut to them!"

Sherlock whipped his coat around my shoulders and pulled me towards him, trapping me in his coat. I gasped and then jumped as Sherlock kissed me on my mouth! I moaned, tasting the champagne and strawberries from earlier on his lips. I tried to fight him, but he had one arm wrapped around my neck and the other around my waist. I closed my eyes, surrendering to his intoxicating kiss. But when I felt his hand on my breast, I jumped and pulled away. I kept my eyes closed, I couldn't look him in the eye, not when we were this close.

"Too fast?" he asked. I nodded. "Right. But you _are _staying in my room, there's enough space in that bed for both of us."

"Why this act Sherlock?" I asked him opening my eyes, immediately my pulse level jumped sky high. "Why? We _are _breaking up in almost a month. And anyway, I told you, _I am not _sharing a bed with _any man _unless we're _married_! And like it or not, I won't share a bed with you unless we're married and not even an engagement ring is a good enough reason for me to jump into bed with you!"

He shrugged. "Don't be too sure about that. Besides, we'd just be sharing the bed, your virginity will still be intact tomorrow morning." I groaned and rubbed my shoulders, drawing his coat around me. I watched as Sherlock then reached into his pocket and handed me a small box. "I got this for you the day we decided to become more than friends. I just couldn't find the right moment and I decided, that after that incident with Moriarty was over, I'd give it to you. It's over now…and I'd like you to have it."

"Thank you Sherlock." It was about the size of a ring box, but I couldn't think that way. I smiled brightly. "I bet it's those diamond studs I was tempted to buy. It would be just like you to notice I was admiring it."

"No, it's not. In fact, you're not going to see this coming."

I ripped open the wrapping and stared at the small box, hesitating for a fraction of a second. Then, I opened it and nearly fainted dead away at the sight of a silver ring, with two adjoining hearts with diamonds all around the band. He'd actually bought me a ring!

"Oh Sherlock."

Sherlock stepped forward, wrapping an arm around my waist, steadying me. "It's a promise ring." I stared at him in shock as he took it out of the box and slid it on my trembling finger. "I figured it's about time I gave it to you. Do you like it?"

"Yes." I stammered, barely able to draw a breath. "It's beautiful."

Sherlock reached for my hand, running a long finger over the ring. "I wasn't sure if it would fit perfectly. Glad I got it right." He leaned forward and kissed the corner of my mouth.

Those actions broke my heart and I couldn't stand this anymore. "Stop it Sherlock." I begged. "Stop…torturing me."

"I don't understand."

I turned aside, not wanting to do this now, at his parent's house. "We should go back downstairs."

"Nope." Sherlock spun me around, making me face him. I groaned and closed my eyes, not allowing him to read my emotions any more. "I'm not asking you to marry me Tammy Taylor, though I do think that it could very possibly become reality in the future," my eyes flew open at that outrageous statement. "I'm simply asking that we agree to make things a little more permanent between us."

Oh God, Sherlock!" I stared at him. "Are you really that stupid?" He frowned indignantly, offending at my calling him stupid. "Have you forgotten my brother!?"

"You're swearing again." He pointed out.

I shouted. "Will you pay attention to the subject at hand?!" He crossed his arms, as if he were really going to listen to what I had to say. "Sherlock, there is no earthly way that we can ever-

"live without each other." He finished for me. "You've eaten nothing today except a few of those cookies you made. I on the other hand, polished off two of those chicken burritos that you made and John can't even eat one!"

true, I did my burritos a bit on the big side. And for Sherlock to eat two of then, it was just…odd. "Maybe you didn't eat for a few days."

"No." He stated. "I find that the eating was much easier than remembering and feeling what is so obvious between us." He stepped towards me, wrapping his arm around my waist. "I told you Tammy, from the start, that things wouldn't be normal between us! Moriarty's blackmail is still part of the not normal." He glowered down at me. "You're not a coward Tammy, and you know nothing scares me."

"_That's _why I agreed to him!"

"Oh for God's sake Tammy," he said. "I'm a grown man. I can take care of myself! I don't need you to jump in front of me to protect me! I can deal with this." I coughed lightly and he pulled me close. "I don't want you to go Tammy."

I stared at him. Mycroft said that Sherlock was in love with me and I hadn't believed him. Except, when he said that he didn't want me to go, he'd convinced me of his real affections. "You're…. asking me to break my promise to Jim?"

"Yes."

"And," I twirled the ring on my hand. "am I to…officially be your girlfriend?"

"Obviously."

I hesitated, Sherlock was so persuasive and he didn't even have to try to be persuasive! He'd practically won me over in a few short sentences! "What if James tries to kill you?"

He rolled his eyes as if it weren't such a big difference. "That'd be terribly ambitious of him."

"I don't want to be responsible for your death."

"and I don't want to find you gone in a month." He wrapped his arms around my waist. "It'd be so boring and I'll go positively mad!"

I smiled a little, running my finger down his chin. "Sherlock, you're far too intelligent to go insane. You could survive without me."

"I could, but why try it?" He asked. "Things will be rather…tedious at the flat and you're so nice to come home to."

"if I say yes Sherlock, I'm putting you in danger."

"Sounds interesting."

"All right." I whispered. "I won't go." I shook my head. "It's a mistake, I know it! We haven't even sensibly talked it out and I've all ready said that I won't go."

"Promise?"

I nodded. "I promise Sherlock." He pulled me up into his arms, rubbing my shoulders. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around his neck. "I can't fight you Sherlock, you're my gravity. I'm truly, only happy when I'm with you. But, I don't want you to get hurt on my account."

"I seem to be the one who got you to break your promise. It's on me, not you." He observed as tears filled my eyes. "You cry a little too much Tammy."

"I'm happy Sherlock, truly happy." I exhaled. "I can't believe this. How, all of this happened to me…involving you. All because, I solved a riddle in the street."

"There is never a time or place for true love." He said slowly, sending shivers down my spine. "It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment."

"Sarah Dessen." I murmured.

"It's just you and me." He leaned forward to kiss me again when the door opened. Sherlock groaned. "What is _it _Mycroft!?"

"Sherlock!" We both spun around to see his mother there. She crossed her arms. "Dinner is served! Now! Shall we go?"

He nodded and rubbed my shoulders as he guided me towards the door. Dinner would undoubtedly be a very icy affair, especially when they all observed the diamond ring that now graced my hand. Something would always bring me back to Sherlock and it never takes too long for me to decide to come back to him. Sometimes, it would just be a simple look before I'd come rushing to back to his side. This time, I hoped I'd made the right decision to stay with him. Or should I have begged him to set me free, let me be and now fall further into his gravity? I didn't know. Only time could tell.

* * *

**Happy Thanksgiving and happy Hanukkah!**


	15. 15: Later

Chapter fifteen

Later

Dinner was a solemn affair. Sherlock was still somewhat snappish towards his parents and I'd occasionally have to change the atmosphere. We were seated opposite each other originally, but Sherlock told Mycroft to sit across from me and he took his place beside me. I felt as if I was going to start crying, laughing, sing and dance all at the same time. It had taken everyone approximately 30 seconds to realize the ring that now graced my hand and we were both showered with congratulations, which Sherlock brushed off.

Mr. Holmes was too jovial for my comfort. He questioned me about everything and laughed a little too much at what I said. Sherlock glowered at his father, but didn't say a word against him.

Mrs. Holmes, she warmed up to me and we actually began to get along great together. "So," she asked kindly. "is Sherlock difficult to live with?" Sherlock groaned behind me. "He was a difficult child and as a teenager," she groaned. "the things he just had to have around! I can't tell you how many birds or other creatures I found him experimenting on."

"They were all ready dead." Sherlock stated.

I patted his leg. "I'm never bored, shall we say. I've rather gotten used to opening up the refrigerator and finding heads, toes and last week, an actual heart among the food."

"Sherlock!" Mr. Holmes said. "Where do you find those things!?"

"I have my methods."

"And by the time he finished explaining them to us it would be Christmas day." I teased gently. "I don't mind, it's really interesting."

"So, what do you two when you go out on dates?"

I could feel Sherlock looking at me. "We've actually never, officially gone on a date together, things have been too crazy. But, we've actually had a lot of fun together and Sherlock does have his romantic moments."

Mycroft and his father started laughing. "Sherlock? Romantic?" Mycroft rolled his eyes. "You can't be serious."

"There's an old saying that still waters run deep, I believe this applies to Sherlock. He doesn't tell me what I need to hear at times, but most of the time just knowing that he needs me is enough."

"I must say," Mrs. Holmes said with a pointed smile at the other men. "that I'm glad you defend him. You know him very well and I know he must think highly of you to come here and endure an evening of merciless teasing by his brother."

"Well, maybe when Mycroft grows up, he'll find the right girl who will put him back in his place. As one female to another, I'm predicting that she'll probably be a marine sergeant."

Sherlock laughed loudly as he stood up out of his chair. "And above all I admire her comments that make sense only to me. Shall we retire to the music room?" He pulled me up without waiting for anyone else to give him any argument. "Tammy's a singer and musician mother, and she's good."

I frowned. "I never told you I played any…never mind!" he opened his mouth and I placed my finger on his lips. "I know you know and I don't want to know how you know. And if you know what's good for you, you'll note that I don't want to know what you know!"

Sherlock bit my finger lightly. "All right." He took my arm and we all moved towards the music room. "You'll love the music collection."

"Do you have a violin here by any chance?"

He nodded. "Yes. There's a violin in the music room."

"Good, tune it and accompany me." He made a face. "Please?"

"Fine! But I won't like doing this!"

I smiled and bumped my hip against his playfully. "I'll make it up to you."

"I'm counting on that." He whispered in my ear.

I cleared my throat and stared at the tremendous music selection. "Wow. How, does this work? It's like out of beauty and the beast!"

Sherlock laughed. "I loved music. What piece do you want?"

"Later, from Sonheim's 'A little night music'."

"No." Sherlock stated. "I don't like that one."

I laughed. "I'm not picking it for you, I'm picking it for myself." He rolled his eyes and I placed my hand over his heart. "Now, will you accompany me on your violin?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "As you wish."

"Thank you." I kissed his cheek to pacify him. "Do you need the music?"

"No. Do you?"

"No."

"Then let's get this over with." I went to the piano, smoothing my skirt down over my legs. Sherlock took his violin from the case, which was lying coincidentally on the piano.

_Later. When is later? All I ever hear is "Later, Henrik, Henrik, later."_ I got into the part and I allowed my frustrations to pour through my body. _"Yes, we know, Henrik, Oh, Henrik." Everyone agrees, "Henrik, please, Henrik!" You have a thought you're fairly bursting with, a personal discovery or problem, and it's, "What's your rush, Henrik? Shush, Henrik! Goodness, how you gush, Henrik! Hush, Henrik!"_ This song, though from Henrik's point of view, reminded me of Sherlock a little bit._ You murmur, "I only, it's just that-" "For God's sake, later, Henrik!"_

Granted, it was an unusual song choice, but I didn't want to merely admired. I wanted Sherlock to share the spotlight and this song would be perfect. It showcased my voice and he got a good deal of attention. _Henrik. Who is Henrik? Oh, that lawyer's son, the one who mumbles. Short and boring, yes, he's hardly worth ignoring. And who cares if he's all dammed?" I beg your pardon. "Up inside?"_ Sherlock and I connected through the music. I pounded my fingers on the keys while his violin oozed out beautiful notes. I always felt Henrik's frustration in this song, regardless of who sang it.

_As I've often stated, it's intolerable being tolerated. "Reassure Henrik, poor Henrik. Henrik, you'll endure, being pure, Henrik." Though I've been born, I've never been! How can I wait around for later, I'll be ninety on my deathbed and the late, or, rather, later, Henrik Egerman._ Sherlock and I both stopped playing in perfect sync. We stood there, staring at each other, breathing hard before resuming our music together. _Doesn't anything begin?_

Mrs. Holmes was the first to applaud. She shook her head admiringly. "Lovely. You two compliment each other perfectly. Lovely. Both of you."

Mycroft and Mr. Holmes looked floored. Sherlock and I really connected through the song and we'd practically shouted it to the family. "Thank you." I yawned. Mortified, I hid it behind my hand. "I'm sorry."

"Nonsense." Mrs. Holmes hugged me. "You're tired. I can imagine with your nightclub engagements that you rarely get to sleep in."

I nodded. "Sherlock manages to keep my pretty busy."

"In or out of bed?" Mr. Holmes asked before laughing coarsely at his own joke.

"Both." I commented.

"I guess we'll head on upstairs." Sherlock said as he leaned forward and kissed his mother. "Goodnight Mummy."

I smiled, watching the exchanged. "Goodnight." She hugged me. "Goodnight Tammy."

"Goodnight." Mr. Holmes said shaking my hand.

I nodded demurely. "Goodnight." I pulled free and turned to Mycroft. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He leaned forward to hug me, but whispered in my ear. "Good bluff Tammy, but I know better."

I pulled away and turned to Sherlock who, after taking my arm, swept by Mycroft without saying a word to him. I rolled my eyes. "Younger brother or not, you really should grow up."

"Tell that to Mycroft."

* * *

I inhaled before stepping out of the bathroom into Sherlock's room. It was a lovely room, decorated in blue with thousands of glow in the dark stars all over the ceiling. I could have loved the room, had I not been informed by Sherlock that he would be sharing the bed with me. Sherlock was sitting on the left side of the bed, on his phone with a furrowed brow.

"Mycroft?" I asked.

Sherlock nodded. "Yes." He turned off his phone and slapped it on the nightstand. "He's wondering if I plan on seducing you tonight."

My heart jumped in my throat. "And…are you?"

"No." he looked up at me and he paused, looking my figure up and down. "At least…I wasn't."

I blushed red and went to my side of the bed, trying to avoid those eyes of his. I don't know why he was staring at me. I was wearing a pink silk robe and there was a modest, ankle-length, rose print nightdress underneath it. I slid off my robe, keeping my back to him so I couldn't see his face. But regardless, I could feel his eyes in my back, willing me to turn around. Fortunately, I resisted to that call.

I got into the bed and turned off my nightstand. "Goodnight Sherlock."

"Goodnight Tammy."

Fortunately, the bed was wide enough and I could feel Sherlock was a good distance away from me. I wiped my forehead and I closed my eyes, willing my body to relax. Sleep caught up with me quickly and just when I was starting to nod off, Sherlock asked. "May I hold you?" Whatever thoughts I had of sleeping at that moment vanished when those words. Sherlock rolled closer to me and ran his hand down my arm. "I must hold you for a moment."

I trembled and whispered. "If, you'd like to."

He pressed a kiss to my shoulder before pulling me close. I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes. Sherlock ran his hands down my shoulder, resting them on my back. He didn't attempt anything else. Highly improper I know, but I felt more warm and secure in his arms than I had a right to. I won't deny that I hadn't wondered what it'd be like to fall asleep in his arms and now maybe, I was going to get my chance.

Sherlock rolled me over to face him and he pulled me against his chest. "Shh," he whispered softly to me, as if sensing my guard was about to fly up. "relax."

"Sherlock," I asked as he wrapped his arms around me, slowly running his long fingers up and down my back. Instead of protesting this closeness, I let out quiet purr of contentment. "I like that."

I could feel him smile in the dark. "I wager I know a few more things that would you'd like. It doesn't take much to please you, you don't ask for much." He rested one of his hands on my hip, while rubbing my shoulder with his other hand. I closed my eyes and just breathed him in. "John's right you know."

"About what?"

"That you're in love with me." I froze in his arms and I wished to God that I could see his face at this moment. "Can't see how I never realized in before." The tenderness in his voice caused my eyes to prickle. Sherlock ran a hand down my throat, causing my breath to hitch. "I simply touch you and your pulse skyrockets. All the signs were there."

I bit my lip. "I-I hid it for a long time."

"Why?"

"Because….we hadn't decided to take this path with our relationship and the feelings I had….existed long before you asked me."

Sherlock's hand stilled on my throat. "Are you saying you were in love with me before I asked you to start dating me?"

"You never asked to date me. Honestly Sherlock, your 'dating' plan is really unheard of. I'm not sure what we're doing."

"Dating is so overrated and this is much more fun. When?" he asked. "When'd you fall in love with me?"

I smiled as I finger the collar on his gray pajama shirt. "I think the moment you first shook my hand, but…I wasn't aware of it until…you kissed me in my dressing room."

Sherlock was silent for a moment. "I was trying to figure out…what my feelings were for you that night. Especially when you kissed me before I left to go after the Black Lotus gang." His voice dropped to a whisper, seducing me. "That kiss haunted me the whole time. John never told me to get you a rose, I got it myself. And when your ex showed up, I knew I felt something for you when I began to feel…conflicting emotions. But at the same time I had to taste those lips of yours." He ran his thumb over my mouth. "They're perfectly shaped and they're very tempting at times. I wasn't sure how you'd' take my kissing you and that was the perfect opportunity."

I bit my lip and admitted. "I wanted your kiss then Sherlock."

"I tried leading up into telling you that things had changed for me." His tone wasn't condescending and I was grateful. "Think back on it Tammy."

_"Look Tammy, I only kissed you as a favor." Now, my mind seemed to register that Sherlock was a little nervous. "I've all ready said that girlfriends are not in my line."_

_"I'm aware of that Sherlock." But I was so afraid of him seeing my heart that I was snappish towards him. "Boyfriends aren't in my line, just as girlfriends aren't in your line of work. I think it's evident in my poor choice in Robert!"_

_"I'm trying to say Tammy," again, he tried to tell me. "I'm not stupid. I could feel that you reacted to my kiss."_

_I merely rolled my eyes. "Oh please!"_

_"And…. I want to apologize. I shouldn't, have ever done that."_

_In my nervousness I snapped at him, cutting him off. "I am not attracted to you Sherlock Holmes, I could never be! If you're thinking I'm attracted to you just because you kissed me, you're wrong!"_

My actions caused me to freeze. "Oh my word. I am…so…sorry."

He shrugged. "Don't worry, I had to do some unraveling of the female mind and the way it works, yours though average, was quite difficult to interpret."

I smirked. "Is that why you called me the Riddler? Because I'm a riddle?"

"Yes. At times I'd wondered if you'd had a multiple personality disorder." I laughed at him. "I'm serious."

"Well, I've always thought the same about you."

"Hmm," his voice dropped to a low and seductive pitch. "don't ever change Tammy. Stay my Riddler forever."

I whispered back. "I promise Sherlock."

I hesitated, remembering what he'd said outside. But again, he read my mind. "You're thinking, go ahead and say it."

"You said that…your proposing to me…could very possibly become… reality in the future." I exhaled. "Were you…sincere about that?"

"Why would I lie about something about something like that to you Tammy?" he asked. "There'd be no point in lying to you." My phone went off and I groaned, disentangling myself from his arms. "Don't get up." He said. "It's so warm."

I grabbed it from the nightstand and I answered it without looking at the number. "Hello?"

"If that's John, just hang up."

_Hello Tammy? _I gasped and dropped the phone as I recognized James's voice on the other end of the line. Sherlock flipped it on speaker while I gripped his hand. _I know you're with Sherlock's parents now._

"I was in bed."

_Sorry, but now's a good time to talk to you._

"How'd you get my number?" I gasped out. "Why don't you leave me alone?"

I thought it'd be obvious. You are going to burn the heart out of Sherlock by breaking his heart. He laughed, a sick, obsessive laugh that made me tremble. Sherlock placed a hand on my shoulder. Congratulations sister, he's never let his guard down for anyone but you. I don't know why, you're not very intelligent.

"I solve riddles and save him time." I snapped. "If he allows me to help, then my intellect must be higher than you give him credit for!"

Whatever. He was silent before speaking again. Why do I have to be dead to you Tammy? You only just met Sherlock, it's not as if he's going to love you forever. He's probably never even going to say that he loves you. And can you honestly want that kind of relationship? His voice grew darker, as if he were trying to read my thoughts. You always wanted love Tammy, you're a born romantic. Can you live a lifetime without being told that you're loved by him?

"There was a songwriter, Gus Kahn. He wrote some of the most beautiful love songs in the world." I said quietly, I turned to Sherlock, finding my face inches away from his. "His wife was the inspiration for the songs. He never told her he loved her and he didn't need to." Sherlock ran his hand through my hair. "The actions were enough." He pulled me close, closing the distance between us. "the words weren't necessary."

Sherlock kissed me and I wrapped my arms around his neck while James talked on. He sounded like an irritating, evil fairy that I wished someone would just step on. Hey! Tammy! What's going on?

Sherlock groaned and grabbed the phone. "Listen, Moriarty, Tammy and I decided to ignore your warning. We're not breaking up. As a matter of fact, at this moment, she is in my bed and she also wears my ring on her finger." Sherlock spoke rapidly, but there was a dark, possessive, warning edge to his tone. "Don't text or call her again, whatever family ties she had to you were severed when you abandoned her. She is mine now and I will not allow you to hurt her or torment her again. Is that understood?"

All was silent for a long time before he spoke. Fine. But you'll be sorry Tammy. My phone beeped, showing that he'd hung up on me, leaving us alone, in my room, in stiff silence. Sherlock laid down on his back and looked at me as I turned off the light.

"Sherlock-

"Now," he interrupted me. "in the quiet of the evening and in the warmth of the bed a drugged and dreamy feeling steals over me and I am with you. Lying here I love to think that you are near me," he patted the spot that I'd vacated. His eyes, ordered me to lie back down with him. I did as he asked. "your arms encompassing me, your head, buried in my shoulder," I nestled close to him, my head by his shoulder and pressed against his chest. He kissed my forehead as I pressed my hands against his heart. "catching the rhythm of your breathing and living for a few exquisite moments as one being. I said I was dreaming, darling, but I am delightfully intoxicated, relishing such heavenly moments with you that I wish it to go on forever." I was silent for a long time. I don't know where those words came from, but they couldn't be his. as if reading my mind, he spoke. "Olive Lewis wrote it to Leslie Couzens, her future husband. It seemed to fit the moment."

"I love your voice Sherlock."

"I hate it."

"You don't have to listen to it. I hate my face."

"Well, it's utterly charming and I enjoy looking at it." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Now, try to rest. God knows when I'm going to be allowed to enjoy this again."

"Never."

"Don't bet on that Tammy. One never knows what might happen."


	16. 16: Emotions are dangerous

Chapter sixteen

Emotions are dangerous

"I all ready love in you your beauty, but I am only beginning to love in you that which is eternal and ever precious," I opened my eyes, to see that I was reclining on Sherlock's chest and he was sitting up in bed. He had one hand on my shoulder and the other had a book. "your heart, your soul. Beauty, one could get to know and fall in love with in one hour and cease to love it as speedily; but the soul one must learn to know. Believe me, nothing on earth is given without labour, even love, the most beautiful and natural feelings." He closed the book with a snap and smiled down at me. "Good morning."

I smiled. "Good morning. What a beautiful way to wake up. Was I asleep long?"

He shrugged. "Not very long, I woke up earlier and got a book from downstairs."

"Love letters, you mean. You walk like a cat Sherlock."

"Comes in my line of work." He rubbed my shoulder fondly. "As much as I'd like to stay in this position forever, we've got to go. John texted me and there's a case waiting for me when we return." I blinked and jumped out of bed, going for my overnight bag. "There's no rush!"

"You're a liar," I headed to the bathroom. "you go kick Mycroft out of bed and get dressed in his room."

"Tammy."

"And see if anyone can have breakfast ready for us to eat on the way back. I want complete details explained to me once in the car."

Sherlock began protesting, but I closed the door on him. I jumped into a white pantsuit that I'd brought with me, it was solid white and in spite of Sherlock claims that I was the perfect weight for my age and height. I still felt as if I were carrying a pound or two extra. I then brushed my hair and my teeth. I hate brushing my teeth early in the morning. The water was too cold and the toothpaste, which tastes terrible most of the time, positively curled the blood in my veins.

I trotted out of the bedroom whistling Sonheim's 'you could drive a person crazy' brightly. I then began pulling on my shoes and stood up. I then bent over and began tucking my clothes into the overnight case.

"You might want to turn around." I spun around to see Mycroft standing there in his robe.

I straightened and frowned at him. "This is Sherlock's room and I am Sherlock's girlfriend, therefore, your presence and words are uncalled for."

He shrugged as he stepped forward towards me. "Tell me," he asked. "how long are you and Sherlock holding up this façade of being girlfriend and boyfriend? I know all that the two of you are going to break up."

"We did, but Sherlock and I got back together again."

I enjoyed the look of shocked surprise on his face. "Why?"

"Because we need each other, nothing more, nothing less. Now, get out of here Mycroft."

"I'm simply here to advise you against dating my brother."

"Because you want me for yourself?" His eyebrows rose in surprise. "I may not be a Holmes Mycroft, but I am observant."

"I hadn't meant to be so transparent." He said. "I thought I was hiding it rather well."

"Not well enough, Sherlock has noticed." I pointed out. "I told him he didn't have to worry about it because nothing would ever come of it."

"You won't give me a chance?"

"No."

"I could protect you," he said. "your brother would never find you."

"I'm not worried about my brother finding me." I stated. "If you want me to be happy, ensure that he'll never put his hands on Sherlock again."

"Sherlock can take care of himself."

"I know, the thing is," I crossed my arms and held his gaze. "I just plain love the guy. If you want to keep me safe and happy, keep your brother safe. He should be your first obligation, not me."

"If my brother needs my help he'll ask for it. You've…humanized him a little bit. Whether or not it's for better or worse, that remains yet to be seen. You must be careful with him; emotions are dangerous in his line of work. He needs to be careful that he won't get distracted by you."

"Sherlock and I are partners and we're going to stay that way."

"If it'll last."

"It'll last." I said with a defiant tilt of my chin. "You just watch Mycroft Holmes."

"Indeed." Sherlock said as he rounded the corner, pushing Mycroft. "You really should listen to Tammy when she talks in that tone, she means what she says." He wrapped his arm around me and kissed my forehead. "Ready?" I nodded. "Good," he turned and walked out of the door. "let's go."

"Her overnight case Sherlock." Mycroft pointed out.

"Oh, it's not that heavy Mycroft." Sherlock stated. "She can do it herself."

I groaned and grabbed my suitcase. "I don't mind Mycroft, it falls right along the lines of Sherlock buying me roses."

Sherlock stopped and frowned. "I haven't bought you roses."

"That's exactly what I meant." Sherlock frowned. "I don't expect you to buy me roses and I don't expect you to carry my suitcase. But I do expect you to have something for me to eat in the car when I get down there."

Sherlock nodded. "Right."

"And don't boss the kitchen staff around!" I called after him. I turned to Mycroft. "See? As Sherlock stated, I don't ask for much and it doesn't take much to please me. Goodbye." I shook his hand with as gracious a smile I could muster. "Thank you for the advice and I hope you won't think too ill of me for avoiding it."

He shook my hand, but didn't release it right away. "It seems a shame," he commented. "that someone, as kind as you, should waste you life an affections on someone like my brother."

I nodded. "I know, but then again, I've wasted it on others before him and none of them were anything like him. Maybe this time, I've found the perfect one to waste my affection on, good day."

* * *

The weeks that followed were entertaining. John immediately blogged that Sherlock and I were officially dating and that I wore Sherlock's promise ring. Sherlock hit the roof and shouted at John, which I had to break up. After that, my audience club seemed to grow as the days went on. Sherlock's popularity grew as well, sometimes favorably and other times…not so well. His bluntness was a little too much for some people and it's a wonder he didn't get slapped at times!

I had to console two girls who'd come running out of the room crying because their parents had burned their grandfather! I then explained, as best I could that there were several different ways of preparing a body for death and cremating was one of them. Sherlock reprimanded me for added to their childhood delusions about the world but I'd felt that it was good for children to have some fantasies. My childhood fantasy was that Neverland existed and I was glad my parents never told me there was a Neverland. Now, a small part of me still wishes that there was Neverland and what a beautiful thought it could be if we all had the ability to fly away from earth and it's troubles to live in a land where one never grew up or old.

Rumpleteazer was a wonderful kitten. I'm afraid I spoiled her profusely. She loved Mrs. Hudson especially, which worked. Mrs. Hudson kept an eye on her and it was amusing to see the two playing together. Sherlock, well he got her for me so he didn't have to like it. She didn't like him much either; she seemed to feed off of Sherlock's emotions. If Sherlock was in a bad mood, she'd hiss at him, he'd hiss at her and she'd lunge at him with her claws bared and bloody murder in her eyes. But if he was relaxed, she'd climb up on his shoulder and roost there. Sherlock and I tried breaking her of that habit, but she insisted on roosting on Sherlock's shoulder.

Then one day, things took a complete turn for Sherlock and I. I was getting ready to leave for an afternoon show I'd put on. I'd spent good money on duplicating Karen Ziemba's red dress from Sondheim's concert at Carnegie hall in 1992; the only difference was that my dress was pale pink. I was trotting down the stairs, wearing a full length white coat when I noticed two men, in black suits, walking Sherlock through the front door.

"Sherlock?" I called. "What's going on?"

One of the men nodded in my direction and then approached me. "You come with us."

"What?" I stepped back and he reached out and grabbed my wrist in a tight grip. "Hey! Let me go!" I hit the man over the head with my bag. "Sherlock!"

"Let her go!" Sherlock snapped darkly at the man. "Or you'll rue the day you laid a finger on her!" The man released me and I wiped his touch off me. "Do keep up Tammy, we're being hauled off on business!"

I glared at Sherlock and then stumbled after him and the mysterious men. I got into the car and looked at Sherlock as he clutched the sheet, then I noticed one of the men was holding a pile of Sherlock's clothes. I stared at the pile, then at Sherlock's swathed figure before shouting. "Sherlock!"

"What?" He asked.

"Are you wearing any clothes at all?"

"No."

"Oh for God's sake!"

"He refused to put them on."

"That I believe, but for Pete's sake WHY!?"

"They refused to answer my question."

"Oh for once will you stop acting like a child!?"

"We are not deaf Tammy," he stated calmly. "you're simply overreacting to being seated next to a naked man. Not to mention, since you and I are seeing each other, my physical presence is causing your hormones to spin a little out of wack. I suggest you look out the window."

"I hate you." I groaned as I turned to watch all the building's flying by. Sherlock laughed at me and I tuned him out. I began wondering where we were going and what had Sherlock done that I'd gotten dragged along with him. And whoever this was, I hope they didn't mind meeting Sherlock in a bedsheet!


	17. 17: Tea at Buckingham Palace

Chapter seventeen

Tea at Buckingham Palace

"Will you please," I begged through my teeth. "put your clothes on?"

"Not yet."

I groaned and buried my face in the palm of my hands. Hearing Sherlock's sheet rustle I hissed. "And _don't you even dare _think of touching me!"

He laughed. "Fine."

The sound of feet approaching caused me to look up. To my surprise, it was John. "Hello John."

"Hi." John sat down beside me and I smoothed my dress self-consciously as John frowned. He looked like a confused chipmunk as he studied Sherlock. Sherlock maintained a neutral look. "Are you wearing trousers?"

"No." he stated quickly.

"Ok." John said accepting it easily.

"He's not wearing _anything_!"

My words only caused both of them to laugh maniacally, further irritating me. I groaned and clunked my heels on the floor. John patted his knees and looked around while Sherlock continued chuckling. "Buckingham Palace." John commented in wonder. "I am seriously fighting the impulse to steal an ashtray." Both men continued chuckling. "What are _we_ doing here, Sherlock." John asked as he continued looking around him. "Seriously, what?"

"I don't know." He smirked.

"Oh stop lying Sherlock." I said. "You know everything and I want to know what we are doing here!"

"Are we here to see the queen?" John asked.

"Apparently, yes."

Both men started laughing again. I groaned. "You're both hopeless!"

"Just once, can you two behave like grownups?" I groaned when I realized that it was Mycroft talking to us.

John chuckled quietly. "We solve crimes, I blog about it, and he forgets his pants. I wouldn't hold out too much hope."

"And I put up with both of them," I said. "therefore my mental state must be questioned."

"Either way, these things must be dealt with accordingly." He glanced at me. "Hello Tammy."

"I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft." Sherlock stated. "And do stop talking to Tammy, she's really not interested in you."

"Mycroft can talk to me."

"The hiker and the backfire?" Mycroft asked. "I glanced at the police report. A bit obvious, surely."

"Transparent," Sherlock said. "as are your continuous glances at Tammy."

"Ignore him Mycroft," I said. "he's acting like a child." I stood up and removed my white coat completely. All eyes went to me as I sat down again. "Now, shall we get back to business?"

Sherlock glowered at my legs, which were completely exposed thanks to knee-length, fringe skirt. "Put your coat on."

"No. Not until you put your clothes on."

"Time to get on then." Mycroft picked up the stack of Sherlock's clothes and extended them to him. Sherlock shot him a look that said, 'please, don't be an idiot and tell me what to do again'. But Mycroft didn't take the hint. "We're in Buckingham Palace, at the very heart of the British nation."

"Obviously." I muttered.

"Sherlock Holmes," Mycroft said testily. "_put your trousers on_."

"What for?" I rolled my eyes at Sherlock's rare display of his stupidity.

"Your client."

"And my client is?"

"Illustrious," all our heads whipped towards another door to see another man, who could double as Mycroft, but then that was my opinion, enter. "in the extreme. And remaining, I'll have to inform you, entirely anonymous."

"Harry." Mycroft said shaking Harry's hand. "May I apologize for the state of my little brother?"

"A full time occupation, I imagine." Sherlock and I glowered at harry as he turned to John. "And this must be Mr. John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers."

"Hello, yes." They shook hands and I rolled my eyes.

"My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog."

"Your employer?"

"She particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminum crutch," he stated. John shot Sherlock a pointed look that clearly said, 'See! I have talent! People read my blog and like it.' The man walked up to me, surveying me from top to bottom. "And you, I'm afraid I'm not familiar with you."

"Tammy Taylor."

He smiled a little bit too friendly with his smile. "An enchanting, beautiful girl. And you are-"

I straightened. "I'm Sherlock's girlfriend."

"Pity." I ignored his hand that he extended towards me and I sat back down. He went to Sherlock. "And Mr. Holmes the younger, you look taller in your photographs."

I groaned and rolled my eyes. This man just blew whatever chances he had for Sherlock taking the case. He complimented John's blog, gave me the eye and then insulted Sherlock's height. "I take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend." I could tell by his tone that his patience had run thin and Sherlock wasn't sticking around here anymore. "Mycroft, I don't do anonymous clients. I'm used to mystery at one end of my cases." I stood up, preparing to leave. "Both ends is too much work. Good morning."

At that moment, Mycroft stepped on Sherlock's sheet, catching it and giving me a view of Sherlock's rear end, which I didn't want to see. I blushed red and looked down on the floor, covering my eyes out of habit.

"This is a matter of national importance," Mycroft hissed. "grow up!"

"Get off my sheet!" Sherlock somehow managed to snap, bark and hiss in the same breath. I could hear his anger.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll just walk away."

"Don't you dare!" I cried out.

"I'll let you." Mycroft sneered.

"Oh will the two of you grow up!?" I shouted.

"Boys, please," John asked patiently. "not here. You're making Tammy uncomfortable as well."

"Who….is…my…..c_lient_?!" Sherlock demanded.

"Take a look at where you're standing and make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for God's sake," Mycroft caught himself from shouting and he took a second to right his emotions. "_Put your clothes on_."

I stepped back and reached for the pile of clothes. I stepped up to Sherlock and placed a hand on his shoulder. Sherlock jumped and spun around, tension still in his shoulders. I noticed that even in the muscles in his throat were taut.

"Inhale…and then exhale Sherlock." I handed him his clothes with a smile. "Now, get dressed, please?"

Sherlock took the clothes and nodded. He walked away, muttering to himself. Mycroft nodded. "Thank you Tammy, you should get roses for that."

"Ha, like Sherlock would buy me roses."

To say that tea was awkward was putting it mildly, it was the definition of awkward and every other word that meant awkward. Mycroft, somehow knew that I preferred cold tea and I was presented with a bottle of cold raspberry tea. Sherlock glowered at Mycroft darkly.

"This is a matter of the highest security and therefore of trust."

John's brow furrowed. "You don't trust your own Secret Service?"

"Naturally not." Mycroft scoffed. "They all spy on people for money."

"I do believe we have a timetable." Harry pointed out to Mycroft.

"Yes, of course." He snapped open his briefcase and handed Sherlock some large photos. "What do you know about this woman?"

I glanced at the large photograph of the woman. I suppose she could be considered attractive, if she let her hair down. "Nothing whatsoever." Sherlock stated.

"Then you should be more paying attention." Mycroft stated. "She's been at the center of two political scandals in the last year. And recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist for having an affair with both participants separately."

"Oh good grief!" The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. all eyes went to me and I took a drink from my bottle. I wouldn't apologize! What else was a woman to do when she heard such a thing about her own gender!

"Try not to sound so shocked Tammy." Sherlock stated. "Who is she?"

"Irene Adler. Professionally known as, The Woman."

"Professionally?" John questioned.

"There are many names for what she does, she prefers Dominatrix."

"Dominatrix?" Sherlock questioned.

"Don't be alarmed." Mycroft said smugly. "It's to do with sex."

Oh, I couldn't believe I was hearing these things being spoken of so slightly! Call me old fashioned, but hey, there were some things that one doesn't talk about it public! Much less Buckingham palace!"

"Sex doesn't alarm me." Sherlock commented quickly

"How would you know?" Mycroft smirked.

"Ask Tammy."

I choked on my tea and glowered at him. He glowered back at me. After several long moments I stated. "No….comment."

Mycroft chuckled. "She provides recreational scolding, for those who enjoy that sort of thing, and are prepared to pay for it." He handed Sherlock some more photos. "These are all from her website."

Being seated beside Sherlock allowed me a glimpse of photos I really didn't want to see. The photo's, though acceptable to so many people now, to my innocent eyes, the pictures I saw of her were disgusting, embarrassing and shocking for me. I had a program called, 'Curse Free T.V' that took out every single four letter word. I still, haven't watched an 'R' rated movie! I rested my hands on my legs, to realize that they were on display. I stood up and put my coat on, buttoning it all the way up to the top. While I had been planning it for a dance routine at the club, it really wasn't proper for Buckingham palace either! Besides, it made me feel like a tramp and I was decently covered. In fact, the skirt of my dress came from the 1930's!

"I see we've shocked Miss Tammy." Harry said with a pointed look at me.

I shook my head. "Not shocked…disgusted." I rubbed my arms. "It makes me…sick."

"Tammy is very American and old fashioned." Mycroft said. "She's a prime example of a lady."

"Thank you for that compliment." I said.

"Indeed." John said. "She's one of the nicest girls around. She should be made a Saint for her ability to put up with Sherlock.

"And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs?" Sherlock interrupted.

"You're very quick, Mr. Holmes." Harry observed, again, irritating Sherlock.

"Hardly a difficult deduction." Sherlock muttered. "Photographs of whom?"

There was a long silence where no one spoke. "A person of significance to my employer. We'd prefer not to say any more at this time."

"You... can't tell us anything?" John asked.

Mycroft exhaled. "I can tell you it's a young person. A young, female person."

At that point, the wheels in Sherlock's head began turning. "How many photographs?"

"A considerable number, apparently."

"Do Miss Adler and this young, female person appear in these photographs together?"

"Yes they do."

"And I assume in a number of compromising scenarios."

"An imaginative range, we are assured."

Sherlock paused. "John, you might want to put that cup back in your saucer now." A quick glance at John showed he was slightly stunned by the rapid-fire exchange between Sherlock and Mycroft.

"Can you help us, Mr. Holmes?"

"How?"

"Will you take the case?"

"What case? Pay her. Now. And in full. As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, "know when you are beaten." He turned and reached for his coat.

"She doesn't want anything." Sherlock stopped at his Mycroft's words. "She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favor."

"Oh, a power play." Sherlock breathed, the sudden interest in his voice catching me off guard. "A power play with the most powerful family in Britain, _now that is_ a dominatrix." Now, I heard admiration in his tone and I felt a small stab of jealousy in my heart. "Oh, this is getting rather fun, isn't it!"

"Sherlock." John said quietly, obviously observing the distress in my eyes.

"Where is she?" Sherlock asked as he jumped up from his seat. I stood up and followed his example.

"London, currently," Mycroft stated. "She's staying"

"Text me the details," Sherlock said. "I'll be in touch by the end of the day."

A man in a suit entered carrying a bouquet of roses. Hybrid roses, white with deep magenta. "Ahh," Mycroft said brazenly. "just in time."

Sherlock frowned as the man stepped forward and presented me with the roses. My jaw dropped in amazement. "What…are these-"

"I'm not as dense as Sherlock believes me to be." He stated. "It was a very uncomfortable hour for you and I feel that you deserve something to soothe your mind."

I stared at Mycroft in amazement. I could feel Sherlock bristle in anger beside me. I took them and smiled. "Thank you Mycroft," I gave him an awkward hug with one arm. "they're beautiful."

"Just a present for having to put up with my brother." He shot Sherlock a glare. "By right, he should buy you something for putting you through that ordeal."

"Since that won't happen, I thank you."

Sherlock grabbed my arm and turned me towards the exit. "Right, let's go." By the tone in his voice I knew he was going to explode the moment we were in the taxi. Now ordinarily, I wouldn't have accepted these roses, but I was a little upset and not thinking clearly.


	18. 18: The roses are from…who?

Chapter eighteen

The roses are from…who?

"What's with the roses Tammy?" Sherlock demanded. "You actually took them!"

"I'm just enjoying them for the ride back to Baker Street." I said, injecting a warning tone into my voice. "Nothing to get all steamed about."

"Nothing to get steamed about?" He snapped at me. "You just accepted roses from my brother and then you gave him a hug in my presence while wearing _my _ring!"

"Sherlock," I bit out. "calm down! I'm giving them to Mrs. Hudson when I return!"

He didn't even calm down after I made that statement. "Why?" he demanded. "You were keen on keeping them moments ago!"

"One: I've said I'm not dating Mycroft nor am I interested in him! So, it wouldn't be proper for me to keep them. Two: we were just in Buckingham palace and _you _created enough of a scene in there and I wasn't going to add to them!" My voice rose and I grew animated. "Three: these just happen to be a favorite rose of mine, but I prefer red more. Four: Mrs. Hudson was talking about getting some flowers for her kitchen, now she won't have to buy some! Five: who needs roses that didn't come from you?! And six: Since I'm not going to get _anything _from you is it wrong of me to enjoy something nice for just five minutes without you ruining it!" I snapped at him. His eyebrows rose in surprise and I turned and looked out the window. After fifteen seconds of stifling silence I barked. "Cabbie, would you stop please and let me out?"

"Tammy." Sherlock warned me.

"Let her go Sherlock." John said. "She needs some space."

"What for?"

I jumped out once the cab stopped and Sherlock went towards me. I slammed the door in his face and I actually clunked his forehead. "Drive on!" I ordered.

The cabbie did as I asked and turned and walked down the street to find another taxi. The squealing of wheels caused to me to spin around to see Sherlock was rolling onto the walkway right behind me! He shouted something at the driver that almost hit him as he brushed his coat off. I groaned and tried to flag down another taxi. I spied one and I began trotting towards them when I felt a hand on my arm.

"Now Tammy, what was that about?"

"What _was that _about?" I said sarcastically. "Well you listen to me Mr. Sherlock, Mind Reader, Holmes! Since you've got the highest intellect in the world, what is wrong with you?"

"Me?!" I laughed tightly. "There is nothing wrong with me!"

"Evidently."

"It's you!"

"Me!"

"You don't trust me Sherlock!" I snapped at him. "I've told you and I've told Mycroft that I'm not interested in any man but you! I state it again and again, but you don't listen to me! I really should get my head examined!"

"You're shouting." He said calmly.

"Why do you care?" I shouted. "You can show up at Buckingham Palace naked and I can't shout at you in the street?!" He scowled at me. "I'm not a doll Sherlock that you can take up and down from a shelf, rearrange my hair and then stick me back. I move, I breathe and I feel! I just wish for once…that you could take my feelings into considerations!"

"I've told you Tammy that I'm-

"not used to relationships. I know that!" I finished for him. "Guess what? Sherlock, you are a wonderful man, intelligent and funny. But you are also so rude and stupid at times. But you are cruel."

His eyes flashed. "I'm cruel!"

"Yes! And not just to me, to everybody. You're not going to change, I'm aware of that but I do think that once in a while that you should be made aware of it." I was on a roll now and there was no stopping me. "Many times now, you've shouted out to people that you and I are intimate in a sexual way, which is a lie, embarrassingly improper and it humiliates me! You don't defend me when it would definitely be appreciated. I've defended you numerous times against Donavan, your family and others! You're so wrapped up in your moments that you fail to notice some things that go on in front of you! John, is a dear friend, but even he knew when I was feeling a little hurt in Buckingham Palace! And I daresay that Mycroft knew that that whole conversation would leave me ill at ease so that's why he bought the roses to make up for an uncomfortable afternoon. And now, that I've got everything out feel free to delete this conversation from your mind!" I inhaled for breath. It felt good to have gotten everything out, even though he wouldn't remember a word I said to him later on. "Now, I'll meet you back at Baker Street after I finish my show and do some shopping for Mrs. Hudson and I'd like some privacy so please, leave, me alone!"

With that Sherlock nodded. "Alright." He flagged down a cab and actually opened the door for me.

I frowned and rolled my eyes. "And just because you got the door for me once, doesn't give you any brownie points."

"No, but this might." He leaned over as he took off his scarf and wrapped it around my neck. He tilted his head. "Can't have you catching cold." He then tugged me forward, still hanging onto the scarf, and kissed me on the mouth! I spluttered as he grinned. "See you later."

He closed the door on whatever words I was going to say to him. I groaned and rubbed my eyes. He was such a confusing man! Was I ever going to understand him? Was I even meant to understand him? God only knows!

* * *

"Mrs. Hudson?" I called.

"Oh Tammy," she said as she came around the corner, wiping her hands on the dishes. "I can't believe it. so many deliveries." She stared at me. "More flowers?"

I frowned. "No, Mrs. Hudson, these are for you." I handed her them and the bag of groceries that she wanted. "I got your groceries as well."

"Oh, thank you dear." She smiled as she took them and inhaled the fragrant bloom. "These are beautiful. Did your show go well?"

I nodded. "Yes, the dancing actually went well, but my feet are killing me."

"I can understand that dear, and you're dancing in high heels." She gave me a shooing motion. "You better go upstairs. Someone sent you a room full of flowers."

I stared at her. "What?"

"Yes. There are flowers in every inch of your room. I kept Rumpleteazer down here with me, she wanted to eat the roses."

"You're kidding!" I held my groceries tightly as I ran upstairs. "Who sent me flowers?"

"I don't know dear!" Mrs. Hudson said as she came up behind me.

I opened my door and stopped short. "Oh…good…Lord."

Mrs. Hudson hadn't been kidding. My room was like a garden. Every space that could hold a vase of roses, held them and they all had little notes attached to them. There were dozens of roses of various colors in every corner of my room. White, red, pink, purple, yellow, blue and even rainbow roses! A path of sprinkled rose petals led to my room and I opened the door. I gasped as I took in the sight of my room bathed in red roses, sparkling crystals and glowing candles. I stared in shock, completely at a loss for words.

I turned my phone on with numb fingers, preparing to send a text to Sherlock about these roses when I saw that there was a text waiting from him sometime ago. _I left something in your room for you._

I dropped the phone in shock. "Mrs. Hudson!" I called, deducing the roses and Sherlock's text in one take.

"Yes dear?" She said directly behind me, I jumped and stepped aside so she could peer inside the room. "Oh my word!" She gasped. "Oh Tammy, it's beautiful! Who sent these to you?"

I shook my head in amazement. "Sherlock." I held out my phone to her, letting her read his text. "I-I can't believe this." I frowned. "He probably charged it to Mycroft though."

The door downstairs opened and John called. "Mrs. Hudson, I need some help!"

I frowned and we scurried downstairs to find John and Lestrade holding Sherlock up on his feet! "Oh my gosh!" I said. "What happened?"

He bit his lip. "Ahhmm, Irene Adler drugged him." Sherlock babbled ridiculous, drunken nonsense. "He hasn't really been making a lot of sense on the taxi ride and, I believe Lestrade filmed Sherlock on his phone."

"I wasn't going to miss an opportunity like this!" Lestrade said with a laugh. "This was priceless!"

I opened the door to their flat and moved to get the door to Sherlock's bedroom. "John, I want full details about what happened today." He flinched when I said full and I immediately picked on it. "What happened?"

"Uhm, nothing."

"You're a terrible liar John Watson."

Sherlock let out a drunken comment as I pulled the covers back on the bed. John and Lestrade lowered him onto the bed. Sherlock slurred something to me and I smiled. "Now, you need to sleep it off."

"He can't really understand you."

"I can make him understand me." I said as I drew the covers up to Sherlock's chin. He struggled and I knelt on the bedside and began gently massaging his temples. Both men watched me as Sherlock slowly stopped struggling. "Now, go to sleep."

I cooed quietly. His hand crept up around my neck and he pulled me towards him. I smiled, even in his drunken state he observed that I was within kissing distance. He kissed me and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Then, his arms dropped from my shoulders and he was asleep.

"Idiot." I stood up gingerly from the bed and shook my head. "There, and now, we leave." I said quietly as I walked towards the door.

"I'd never have believed it." Lestrade said in wonder. "He just,"

"He's drugged and don't you dare go telling anyone what you did or I shall denounce you as a liar. Now, Greg, if you don't mind, could you please not show that around Headquarters?" I asked politely. "Sherlock is a friend of mine and I'd hate to see you taking advantage of him in this state."

Lestrade exhaled, yielding to me. "Fine. I won't, but for your sake, not for him."

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

Lestrade walked out of the flat and I turned to John. "Well, what happened in Adler's house? I want to know from the beginning."

"We were separated actually. Sherlock had me punch him,

"You hit him?"

John smirked. "Yeah."

I laughed. "Finally! But don't tell him I said that! Back to the story."

"I went to get a first aid kit from the maid and when I came back they were….talking."

"About?" I pressed John.

He blinked. "I'm not really sure."

My womanly intuition made me ask the following question. "What was she wearing?" Her costume must have been distracting if John didn't remember. John looked as if he was going to choke on his Adam's apple and I knew I'd struck a chord. "John? What was she wearing. I know she was wearing something provocative so you might as well tell me now!"

"She wasn't wearing something provocative." He paused and I waited for him. "She wasn't wearing…anything."

I blinked. "I beg your pardon."

"She wasn't wearing….anything." he repeated.

"She was…in her underwear?" I said, on borderline shrieking.

"Not even that."

"Oh for God's sake!" I shouted. "She was naked?!" John nodded and I jumped out of my chair. "What a….slut!" John looked surprised at my outburst. "Two unknown male visitors and she walks out in…nothing! What a whore!"

"Tammy, calm down."

"Oh I will!" Then I remembered Sherlock was there. "What was Sherlock doing? He better have had his eyes averted!" Again, John's face betrayed him. "HE DIDN'T?! WHY?!"

"Well Tammy, it was good because these gunmen broke in,-

"And they shot her?"

"No."

"Why can't a bullet go off accidentally when needed!?"

"They needed Sherlock to open the code to her safe and it turned out to be her….body measurements."

I blinked in stunned silence before going into my initial reaction. "I'm going to kill him after I throw all those roses out!"

"Roses?" John frowned. "What roses?"

"Follow me!" I stomped up the stairs. "I'm throwing all of these flowers out the window!"

"Wow, Tammy." John said as he took in the flowers in my room. "These are-

"Flying out the window in 30 seconds."

"Now, wait a minute." He said. "Sherlock said he left some little trinket in your room."

"If you're thinking these aren't from him, you'd be wrong."

"Tammy," he said as he grabbed the white roses from my hands. "stop a moment. Breathe and read the cards first."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because maybe they're not from him." He said. "Think for a minute. Sherlock wouldn't buy you one rose, so why would he buy you dozens?"

In spite of my anger, John's words made sense to me. I grabbed the card, opened it and began reading it in a snappish voice. "White roses for your innocence and purity which personally, I shall enjoy exploiting." I stopped and looked at the card. 'What the," then I noticed the initials. I.A. "heck…is Adler doing, sending me roses?"

John's brows rose in confusion. "I-I don't know."

I went to the window and threw the roses out. "Now, burn the cards from Adler and throw every single rose petal out the window!"

"And they say Hell has no fury like a woman scorned." John mumbled as he went to collect the roses. "A woman jealous is more lethal."

"I AM NOT jealous John Watson!" I snapped. "I am just ANGRY!"

Each card had a similar message and insult attached to it. _orange roses, a passionate flower. I wonder, would your passion bloom if I opened up your rose bud? Lavender roses can simply be enchanting towards the imaginative mind. Can you possibly be imagining the wonderful things I could do to you? Yellow roses, joy and happiness. Believe me, I could slip you into a state of happiness like Sherlock, but make it much more memorable._

I concentrated on throwing the roses out the window. People were staring up at me as if I were insane as I threw the roses out. Still, it was interesting to watch children and couples grabbing the roses. Then John and I entered the bedroom.

"Wow." John said. "This is…amazing."

I nodded. "It's almost a shame to throw it away." I scanned to room. "All right, where would Sherlock put a trinket of mine?"

"On your pillow?" John said. "Or...on the nightstand? There's two letters."

I reached for the one on my pillow first. It had to be Adler. Sherlock was much more practical. I opened up Adler's letter and scanned it.

_Did you enjoy my small consolation prize? _The note read. _Ironic that Sherlock would create such a romantic look for your bedroom since he won't be around to share it with you tonight and I'm afraid that I'm to blame for it. Sherlock can't seem to get you into his bed inspite of all his charms. You're too cold for your own good, he needs a __real __woman like me. Though I must admit that I admire you for your resistance to his charms, not many women could resist a man when he makes such requests. You and Mycroft really would make a better pair, since he gets you roses and Sherlock doesn't. still, I wonder if you'd be as submissive to me after I had you on a_

I stopped reading and handed the note to John as I covered my mouth in disgust. "Throw it away." How dare that…creature write a note of that to me? If I ever saw her…oh, she was going to look like the Hulk had paid her a visit! Why was she doing this? I had a boyfriend and that alone shrieked that I was straight! Maybe, she figured on seducing me to get through to Sherlock. Well, good luck with that!

I took Sherlock's note and opened it. _A rose for every debt I owe you. Sherlock. _

I smiled and folded the note. "These can stay John." I stated. "These actually …came from Sherlock."

I didn't have to look at John to know that he was surprised. "He actually bought you roses."

"Probably used Mycroft's credit card or something." I said as I inhaled the roses. "He actually remembered that I said that red were my favorite." I titled my head. "He's probably upset that he's all drugged up and unable to find out my reaction."

"I still don't know why you put up with him Tammy." John said.

"As I told Mycroft, I just plain love the guy and at times I wish I didn't."

"Are you still going to kill him?"

"No.'

"Good."

"I'll kill him after I get the story from him."

"Right."

* * *

**And now we introduce 'The Woman,' which is going to anger Tammy. **


	19. 19: Text Messages

Chapter nineteen

Text Messages

"John?" Sherlock shouted in the morning, his flailing arm whacking me in the face.

"Ow!"

"Tammy?" he sat up. "What are you doing here? And in my bed!"

"I was making sure you were ok." I yawned. "I must have fallen asleep."

Sherlock had a rough night. He woke up once, fell out of bed and stumbled around demanding to know where 'the woman,' AKA Irene Adler was. It was amusing to see Sherlock attempt looking under the bed for her, but when I watched John put him to bed from the doorway. He didn't really have much to say to me, he could barely form a coherent thought. I checked on him a few times during the night and he was so fitful that I crawled onto the opposite side of the bed and shared it. Remarkably enough, he fell asleep as soon he sensed that I was there. I'd slept with my clothes on though, so I didn't look my best this morning.

Sherlock studied me, his eyes dark. "I thought that there was someone with me last night but I wasn't sure."

I smiled and he leaned forward slowly. "Did you call?" John entered and Sherlock groaned in annoyance. Poor John was caught off guard. "I, uhm, walked in on something didn't I?"

Sherlock went to his clothes drawer and pulled out a white shirt. "That's your specialty John."

"I fell asleep in here John." I said. "After he stumbled around last night, I was worried."

"I was outside." John commented.

"You must be a hard sleeper." Sherlock commented as he pulled his shirt off and threw on the other shirt. I blushed, but couldn't quite make myself look away yet. Sherlock was more muscular than he actually appeared. As if sensing my gaze, he looked at me and grinned. "Like what you see Tammy?"

I blushed more. "Possibly."

John cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I _am _still here you two."

"Sorry John."

"Get out of here John." Sherlock said.

"Please." I added.

"Oh, all right, but what'd you need Sherlock?"

Sherlock frowned. "I did want to ask you something, but Tammy will suffice. So, you can leave now."

John frowned but nodded. "Sure. If you need help Sherlock, just yell."

Sherlock drew himself up indignantly. "Why would I need help from you?"

"Just…forget I said anything." John said. "Never mind."

"He won't." I teased as Sherlock pulled on his red, silk robe; his eyes all ready deducing my body language. "At least I don't think he will."

"I won't be." Sherlock said. "Can't guarantee Tammy's reaction though." John shook his head and muttered something as he closed the door. Sherlock studied me as I turned and lay on my side. He got down on the bed and snuggled close to me. "I gather that you were pleased with your bedroom last night?"

I ran my finger behind his ear and down to his neck. "Very."

"Good."

"There was one thing missing from the whole set up though Sherlock." He frowned. "You forgot something."

"What?" I laughed as I watched him attempt to remember what it was. "What did I forget?"

"Relax." I whispered. "You simply forgot to show up." He blinked in surprise. "The only thing missing was you Sherlock."

Sherlock's brows rose. "Are you saying that I had I showed up last night you wouldn't have turned me away?"

I was feeling very saucy this morning and I had missed these word exchanges between us. "How would you like to take it?"

Sherlock kissed me and I smiled against the kiss he bestowed on me. I ran my fingers through his hair, coaxing a growl out of him. I laughed lightly against his lips, but that was cut short when I found myself on my back with him directly on top of me.

"Sherlock." I groaned.

"Tammy." He said as he continued kissing me. "try to shut up and relax."

_How can I relax when my heart is pounding in my head! _My mind screamed at me. Sherlock's long fingers moved slowly up my side towards my breasts. When his curious fingers touched me I jumped. Sherlock smirked and murmured against my mouth. "Mhmmm, sensitive there?"

"Sherlock." Then, Sherlock pinned me on my back, his hands holding onto my wrists and the blood bled out of my face when I realized that he was between my legs.

It was then that John banged on the door and we both paused. Thankfully, John didn't enter the room. "Sherlock? Tammy? Mycroft is here."

"Tell him to burn in hell." Sherlock muttered.

"Tell him," I said loudly in a wavering voice. "that…we'll be out directly."

"Are you ok Tammy?" John asked.

"She is fine!" Sherlock said. "Can't guarantee about what would have happened in five minutes." I burned red as he looked down at me, studying me. "Your pulse is beating rapidly. Pupils are extremely dilated and you're sweating lightly."

"I am not an experiment." I coughed as I pulled away from Sherlock as I began to smooth my hair and straighten my shirt with shaking fingers. "Perfect timing Mycroft and John." I'd deduced a long time ago that Mr. Right would be hard to say "No," to and right now, Sherlock was getting harder to say "No" to. But I'd promised my father and I was going to keep that promise.

"You're right Tammy." He stated as if ready my thoughts. "It is getting harder for you to say no." next thing I knew, I was back on the bed, with him glaring down on me. "These games, are getting a little too dangerous for you." His hand slowly slid down my throat. The look in his eyes and his touch caused me to tremble and gasp. "You will, in time, give in to me."

I croaked. "When…your wedding ring is on my hand Sherlock." His eyes clouded over and I pushed him off me. Now, can we go?"

"Fine." I moved towards the door and Sherlock said. "Wait." I stopped and he wrapped his arm around my waist and opened the door. "Shall we?"

I laughed and leaned into his embrace. "You're such an idiot."

"You call me that a little too often Tammy."

"Someone should."

"Why?"

"Because you call everyone an idiot constantly. I pay you back every once in a while." I whispered. "I still want to know what happened with Irene Adler."

"Absolutely nothing."

"And her walking out naked was absolutely nothing at all?" Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks and I continued on my way. "I have a vague idea what happened Sherlock Holmes, and I want the full details."

"Can't you shut up for once John?" Sherlock snapped.

John blinked in surprise. "What did I do?"

"You told me the truth. And I thank you John," I leaned over and kissed his cheek, causing all the men to look at me in wonder. "I don't know what either of us would do without you. Now, about this Adler woman Sherlock. She must have made quite the impression if you refer to her as 'The Woman,' and don't worry I'm not as mad as I was yesterday." I headed to the kitchen to find Mrs. Hudson there. "Good morning Mrs. Hudson."

"Good morning dear." I hugged her and she patted my back. "Now, you enjoy breakfast for once. I insist you sit down."

"Just this once." I went and sat down opposite of John and next to Sherlock, who was still glowering. "Oh and Sherlock," I reached into my pocket and handed him the bag of notes and cards that I'd received from Adler. "see if you can figure out why she sent me all these. And if you see or here from her, tell her to stay away before I set the Hulk on her."

Sherlock took the notes and began reading them; his eyes grew irritated. He read the letters and then the notes. "How did you get these?"

I laughed. "With a bouquet of roses to go with each note. So tell me," I leaned forward on my elbows. "do you agree with her deductions?"

Sherlock stopped reading and frowned at me. "Don't be ridiculous, you're the total opposite of her and she envies you. Not to mention, you've got me, and that's the one thing that she isn't going to get."

I felt a little better, but not completely reassured. Still a wave of pleasure washed over me when Sherlock said that I had him. I hadn't even thought of him being 'mine' as he'd implied it. "Nice speech Sherlock," Mycroft said. "but where are the photographs?"

"The photographs are perfectly safe." Sherlock stated as he picked up his newspaper and began reading to avoid looking at Mycroft.

"In the hands of a fugitive sex worker." Mycroft stated.

"She's not interested in blackmail she wants...protection for some reason." I fought to keep back a laugh as the double meaning flashed in Sherlock's mind. Sherlock shot a glare at Mycroft. "I take it you stood down the police investigation of the shooting at her house?"

"How can we do anything when she has those photographs?" Mycroft patiently replied, though I could sense he was somewhat aggravated. "Our hands are tied."

Sherlock smirked. "She'd applaud your choice of words." I giggled behind my hand and Sherlock shot me a wink before glancing back to Mycroft. "Do you see how this works? That camera phone is her 'get out of jail free' card. You have to leave her alone, treat her like royalty Mycroft."

"Though," John stated. "not the way _she _treats royalty." At that moment there was a weird moaning sound. Everyone looked around, John was the only who asked. "What was that?"

"Text." Sherlock stated nonchalantly as he folded his newspaper.

"Well what was that noise?" John asked.

Sherlock ignored him and went to grab his phone. "You knew there were other people after her too Mycroft before you sent John and I in there. CIA trained killers I think."

"What?" I looked at Mycroft. "You didn't!"

"He did." John said. "Thanks for that Mycroft."

"It's a disgrace," Mrs. Hudson said as she came into the room with Sherlock and my breakfast. "sending your little brother into danger like that." I laughed behind my hand at Sherlock's attempt to hide his disdain at Mrs. Hudson's display of affection. She patted his shoulder with her free hand. "Family is all we have in the end Mycroft Holmes."

"Oh shut up Mrs. Hudson!" Mycroft snapped in irritated disgust.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock and I shouted out in unison. All of us stared at Mycroft in shock.

At first, Mycroft wondered what he did that was wrong. Then, he saw the looks of shocked indignation on everyone's faces. Mycroft though had the decency to look somewhat ashamed for his actions. "Apologies."

"Thank you." Mrs. Hudson said as she retreated to the kitchen.

"Though do in fact shut up." Sherlock stated.

"Sherlock!" I snapped. "You both need more respect for your elders!"

Then, that blasted phone went off again, making that weird moaning sound. "Bit rude that noise," Mrs. Hudson commented. "isn't it?"

Sherlock glanced at his phone for a second before turning and hiding behind his newspaper again. "It's nothing you can do and nothing she will do that I can see."

Mycroft exhaled wearily. "I can put maximum surveillance on her."

"Why bother, you can follow her on Twitter, I believe her user name is 'The Whip Handler'."

"Why would it be called that?"

Sherlock stiffened slightly, but I still noticed. "Yes." Mycroft's phone went off and he reached inside his coat pocket to answer it. "Most amusing. Excuse me." Sherlock watched Mycroft as he stepped out of the room. "Hello?"

"Why does your phone make that noise?" John asked casually.

"What noise?" he asked innocently.

"_That _noise," John wasn't going to give up. "the one it just made."

"The moaning noise." I commented. "Or haven't you forgotten it all ready?"

"When it does that, it means I've got a text."

"Hmm," John observed. "your texts don't usually make that noise."

"Well, somebody got a hold of the phone and as a joke personalized their text alert noise."

"Who?" I asked. His phone went off again and I frowned. "And _what _is that sound exactly?"

"Could you turn that down a bit?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Sherlock?" I asked.

"How could they have gotten a hold of you phone?" John asked. "It would have been in your coat."

Sherlock had slowly brought the newspaper up to cover his face. "I'll leave you to your deductions."

John smirked. "I'm not stupid you know."

"Where did you get that idea?"

"That's it!" I snatched the newspaper from behind his face. "Since I obviously am an idiot, do you mind sharing with the rest of the class?" Sherlock blinked. "Now, what is that sound that Mrs. Hudson thinks is so rude?"

Sherlock studied me. "Tammy, you're delightfully innocent, I'd like you to stay that way."

"I _want _to know."

He exhaled. "Fine Tammy, but you were making a few sounds like that in the bedroom a few minutes ago!"

"Sherlock!" John snapped.

I frowned as my innocent mind began to absorb these words. If it was a woman moaning in pleasure that meant it was…and I knew who was sending the text to Sherlock. "The texts…they're from Irene Adler, aren't they?"

"Yes." The phone went off and bile rose in my throat as Sherlock leaned over and examined the text. I stood up and walked towards the door. "Tammy," he called. "where are you going?"

"Out."

"Why?"

"Figure it out for yourself Mind Reader!" And with that, I slammed the door on whatever he had to say to me.


	20. 20: The sun is jealous of the moon

Chapter twenty

The sun is jealous of the moon

I didn't make it more than forty steps when my temper cooled. I inhaled and coughed, realized that I'd forgotten my coat and jacket. I spun around and spied Sherlock walking towards me. I shook my head and walked towards him, feeling foolish. "I am sorry." I said. "I just felt-"

"Jealous?" He said as he handed me my jacket and scarf. "It's perfectly natural."

I climbed into my jacket. "Not for me." Sherlock helped me with the sleeves. "Thank you. But it was stifling in there and Mycroft, well," I wrapped my scarf around my neck. "no explanation needed there. He definitely knew what was going on in your bedroom."

"Indeed." He reached for my hand and continued walking with me. "So, why would you be jealous of Adler?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" I asked. "I'm a size 12, she's obviously a size 8 or small 10." He opened his mouth to reply, but I cut him off. "I know that you know what size she is and I don't want to know!"

"All right."

"She's attractive, sensual, seductive, mysterious, intelligent and desirable and that's clearly everything I'm not!" I groaned. "I have no ambitions, I have no personality, and I'm clearly everything that she isn't. I have a temper as well!" Sherlock stopped walking and turned and looked at me with a piercing gaze that caused me to tremble. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just a rare opportunity for me to see the sun jealous of the moon."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Irene Adler is the moon, bright, shining, desirable and distant. However, the moon's a harsh mistress." I smiled, he knew that was one of my favorite songs and it would make it easy for me to relate to. "But the moon is constantly changing its shape and there's a definite dark side to the moon. You, on the other hand, are like the sun. Constant, always shining, never changing. True, cloud changes do cause the sun to be hidden from our vision from time to time, but it still shines brightly on. And every time the sun shines, warmth is spread all throughout the world. Everyone loves the sun and grieves when it doesn't shine, no one grieves if the moon shines or not. Once in a while the moon comes between the sun, but the moon always gives way to the sun. And when the sun sets, it creates such a beauty in the sky that causes everyone, even the moon to envy it."

I shook my head in amazement. "You…really, can say the right words, when the time is right."

"I was informed yesterday that I do not always do that."

"I'm sorry about that Sherlock."

"And you're right." He said. "I don't open myself up to feelings, emotions, they're all very strange to me."

"I know Sherlock, and at times, I get frustrated with you," he stopped short and studied me. "but I have to also remember that you carry a lot on your shoulders." His eyes narrowed. "And now with this case, even though I don't like…Irene Adler, I shouldn't be throwing a fit and adding more pressure to you."

"Well, actually, Mycroft took me off the case a few moments ago. So, I decided to come and find you."

"That's kind of you."

"No, you didn't eat your breakfast and Mrs. Hudson was offended."

I laughed. "Right. Well, walk me back home?"

Sherlock nodded as he took my hand. "So, is Baker Street your home now?"

I nestled closer to him, relishing some of his warmth. "As long as you and John are there, then it's home to me. Christmas is coming." Sherlock groaned and I laughed. "Sherlock, Christmas is such a merry time of year."

"It's annoying."

"You're annoying." I teased him. "I've got to start planning."

"You were just planning thanksgiving." He reminded me.

"We passed thanksgiving," I reminded him. "things just got too complicated and after Jim and your parents, it just didn't seem like the time was right. I'll do it next year."

"That is if we haven't broken up by then and you decide to move back to the United States."

I shook my head. "Don't worry, I won't moved back to the states, or even leave Baker Street. As you said, I'm like the sun, I'm constant. I'll always be here if you need me."

* * *

I loved Christmas! It was the most wonderful time of year! But I was plagued with coughs as the temperatures dropped. I'd come back from the club to find that Sherlock had a fire going in my fireplace and the heat was turned up for me.

Sherlock had been gracious enough to let everyone eat in down in his apartment. I put up the decorations the night before Christmas so it wouldn't interfere with Sherlock's odd habit. I even got him to help me decorate the tree and hang lights. John made fun of us by playing Billy Joel's 'She's always a woman' and left it on repeat. Sherlock actually dedicated this song to me, saying that it matched my personality perfectly.

"Hello everyone!" I called as I entered the flat. "I am so sorry I'm late." Sherlock stood up and walked over towards me. "Merry Christmas."

"I'll take your coat." He said.

I smiled brightly. "Thank you." Lestrade and John were trying not to stare at the exchange between us. There was another woman, who I wasn't familiar with. She was wearing an attractive black dress. Her hair was down, her makeup was a little flirty and she was a very lovely looking girl.

"You look very fine." Sherlock murmured behind me, causing me to jump slightly.

"Thank you." I murmured back. "You're looking very debonair yourself tonight."

"How come you always say that Tammy looks fine?" John asked. "She looks beautiful."

"Thank you John. But it's really just the dress."

"That's a beautiful dress." Mrs. Hudson said as she observed my sleeveless white dress. It was really simple. I loved the ruffled, flouncy skirt. I had clipped Sherlock's rose that he'd given me to my hip, giving in some sparkle and glitter. "The rose is…an unusual touch, but nice."

"Thank you." I glanced at Sherlock. "It was a present from someone special."

"Who?" John asked.

"I gave it to her," Sherlock said without glancing up from his laptop that he'd retreated to. "a while back."

"You gave it to her?" Lestrade said. "A fake rose?"

"Oh Lestrade," I said. "it was a present on my opening night at the club. It'll remain long after a real one is dead." I turned to the lady who was eyeing me with a rather suspicious. "I'm Tammy Taylor, I don't believe I know you."

She shook my hand demurely. I observed that she seemed a little shy and ill at ease in her new dress. I recognized the scent of new material. "I'm molly Hooper."

"Oh!" I said. "Sherlock's pathologist. It's a pleasure to meet you at last."

Her face brightened a little. "He's mentioned me?"

"Actually, I'm sorry to say that I've read about you in John's blog."

"And…what is your connection to Sherlock?" molly asked. "He's never mentioned you either."

"Oh, I'm just his-

"Girlfriend." Sherlock interrupted me. "John, come here for a minute."

Molly looked crushed and I wondered if she'd had a crush on Sherlock. "You're his girlfriend?"

I nodded. "Yes. He doesn't ordinarily admit to it."

Molly smiled and turned to Lestrade, who handed her a glass of red wine. "Thank you. I wasn't expecting to see you here. "

"That's first thing in the morning. Me and the wife, we're back together, it's all sorted."

"No, she's sleeping with the P.E teacher." Sherlock said.

"Shut up Sherlock." I said with a warning in my tone. "Or you won't get my Christmas present."

_That _caught his attention. "You bought me a present?"

I laughed lightly as I walked over to him. "Of course I did, we are going together." He pulled me onto his lap and I blushed slightly. "Why wouldn't I buy you a present?"

"Because at this moment I'm holding my Christmas present from you."

I blinked and shook my head at his words. "That was really sweet of you Sherlock." I kissed his cheek. "And I love it." I turned to John who was wrapped up with his date and trying not to focus on us. "John? Could you go and Lestrade go get my present for Sherlock? It's upstairs and it's a little too big for me to carry down." I turned to Sherlock and placed a finger over his mouth. "And you _will _open them _silently_ and not even attempt to guess them!"

He made a face and talked over my finger. "That won't be much fun."

I smiled. "I'll make it up to you."

John and Lestrade came down carrying the box. It looked like one present, but it was actually three presents I'd purchased for him. "So," John asked. "does Sherlock get to open this first?"

I nodded. "If no one minds. You're going to love this John."

Sherlock's hand slid down to my hip. "John's going to love this and you bought it for me?"

"Yes."

"And this makes sense to you?"

"Completely."

He swatted my hip and I got up off him. "Well, I better open up this….present."

All eyes were on Sherlock as he removed the blanket, which was a replica of Van Gogh's 'Starry Starry Night.' I wondered if he'd realize it. I couldn't tell, his expression was fairly neutral as he folded up the blanket neatly and set it to the side. Then, he sliced the cardboard box open to reveal the medium sized refrigerator I'd gotten him.

"Now, you can put as many fingers, eyeballs and heads in that without grossing John out." Sherlock glowered at me. "Sorry, but this is a special one."

"I can see that."

"Open it up." I prodded. Sherlock did as I asked and he paused at the sight of the three shirts I'd purchased for him in there. There was a forest green, a red, and a gray-blue plaid shirt, which I couldn't resist buying. "Don't worry, I got them from the store where you always buy your shirts. I just thought you'd like a little variety. If you don't like them, you can return them."

"Now why would I do that?"

"Because you're Sherlock Holmes and you prefer darker colors. And the blanket is yours too."

"So I deduced." Sherlock leaned over and whispered. "They're wonderful presents. Thank you." Sherlock leaned forward and kissed me on the lips, resting a hand on my bare shoulder. I flushed slightly in embarrassment and pride, but I leaned into his kiss. I tried not to observe all of the eyes that were on us as broke away. "Merry Christmas Tammy."

"Merry Christmas Sherlock." And, his blasted phone went off again. I groaned in embarrassment. "That wasn't me."

"What was that?" Lestrade asked.

"Me." Sherlock said.

"Oh God really?" Lestrade was stunned.

I laughed as Sherlock glowered at him. "My phone."

"Fifty-seven." John said.

"What?" I asked.

"That's fifty-seventh text that I've heard."

"John," Sherlock said as he moved towards the mantelpiece. "as thrilling as it is that you've been counting, you're going to upset Tammy." He then picked up a red package that I didn't remember seeing earlier today. But then, anything could happen. I couldn't see Sherlock's face, but I could read his body posture and something was wrong. "Excuse me."

"What's up Sherlock?" John was in a better position to see Sherlock's face and his expression must have been a curious one.

Sherlock went towards his room. "I said excuse me."

"Do you have a reply?" John called.

Sherlock ignored him and closed the door on John. I exhaled. "And a Merry Christmas to you as well." John got up and went to Sherlock's room. I shook my head. "He won't want to talk to you."

John nodded and I went to help myself to a glass of white wine. "You ok?" I heard John ask.

"Yes." Sherlock then shut the door in John's face.

John came out looking slightly confused. "What is it John?"

"He said to someone, I assume Mycroft," he tilted his head to the side. "that they were going to find, Irene Adler tonight. Dead."


	21. 21: Irene Adler's phone

**Please note the rating has changed to an M just to be on the safe side.**

* * *

Chapter twenty-one

Irene Adler's phone

The next few days were difficult. Sherlock had dashed out of his room that odd Christmas morning and things had been a little unusual. I had a funny feeling that John was hiding something from me. Sherlock spent his days composing moody and depressing music. There was a shadow in the room and it was a shadow that I couldn't penetrate.

He'd told me once that I was like the sun and Irene was the moon. Sherlock fought on the light side, but he was now infatuated with the dark side and I hadn't realized it. I'd lost him to a dead woman. We didn't need to talk about it, there was nothing to be said, but I knew it. I may seem like a coward for not approaching him, but what could I say to him?

When I got John alone, I asked him to tell me everything that had transpired between them. Irene, had walked out naked to greet him and she'd evidentially baffled Sherlock. While he could read anyone at a glance, he couldn't read Irene Adler. After several flirtations back and forth, Sherlock gave her his coat. According to plan, John left to set off the fire alarm and reveal where Irene hid the phone. And the plan worked, until several armed men showed up and demanded the key to the safe. But Sherlock insisted he didn't know the code until they threatened to put a bullet in John's head.

The code; Irene's measurements. But he also realized that there was a loaded gun in the safe, which killed one man. Afterwards, John went and looked into finding out how the men broke in. he returned to find Sherlock lying on the floor, drugged and Irene had gotten the phone from him. She'd then used a ridding crop on him a few times.

To me, she sounded like a horrid woman, but to Sherlock, she was an intricate example of my sex. I knew now that he had some feelings for her all along and I don't blame him. She was definitely more intelligent than I'd given her credit for. She was like a female Sherlock and how was I to compete with that? How could _anyone _compete with Irene Adler and win?

Then, December 31st, everything changed for me. I'd just taken a shower and I was practically dressed. I'd forgotten my shirt was hanging on the edge of my ironing board so I'd walked out to get it. I'd slid into it and I'd just done the second button when the world fell down around my ears.

"Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson shouted and the terror in her voice caused me to forget my remaining buttons and go to my door.

"Mrs. Hudson?" I peered over the rail to see three men dragging Mrs. Hudson into Sherlock's flat! They were armed and had guns!

"Tammy!" She screamed. "Run!"

"Get her!" one of the men shouted at me.

I slammed my door and locked it and speed dialed Sherlock. Wherever he was I hoped he picked up his phone immediately. "Open this door!" the man shouted at me. When he didn't receive the response he wanted, he then shot through the door. I screamed as I instinctively threw myself on the ground.

_Tammy? _Thank God he picked up his phone! _Why are you_

"Sherlock!" I screamed.

_Tammy?! _His voice wasn't restrained, he was genuinely concerned about me. _What's going on?_

The man grabbed my phone from my hand and threw it across the room. I jumped as he then pulled me up from the ground. "Get downstairs! And don't cause anymore trouble!"

I moved quickly, broaching no argument. My heart pounded in my throat and I concentrated on my breathing. I would _not _have a hyperventilation attack now! I stumbled down the stairs to find Mrs. Hudson in a chair and gunman had a gun pointed to her head.

"Well?"

"She got him on her phone. Probably on his way now." The man shot me a dirty look. "With a bunch of coppers."

The man holding the gun to Mrs. Hudson's head rolled his eyes. "Naw, I don't think he will. He'll show up alone."

The other men kept staring at me and I realized that I had dashed out with only one button done on my blouse. I moved to button it and my captor grabbed my wrist. "Leave it." He snarled. I wrenched my hand free from him and shot him a warning glare. He laughed. "Feisty one ain't she?" he ran his hand through my hair. "No wonder he keeps you around." I jerked away from him to realize that he had a handful of my hair in his fist. I refused to cry out for Mrs. Hudson's sake, she was all ready giving into the stress of the situation.

"You will," I snarled out in a voice that was stronger than how I was feeling. "keep your hands off me."

He laughed. "Or what?"

"He will…kill you. And personally, I will look forward to knowing whatever he does to you."

His eyes darkened and I knew in that moment I'd angered him. "He wouldn't kill me, for looking. Now, where is Adler's phone?"

I stared at him as if he were crazy. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah right." He turned and walked away before spinning on his heel and striking me! I couldn't hold back a cry as I fell to the floor with my head spinning crazily. Then, the man was ontop of me.

"Oh, please stop!" Mrs. Hudson begged. "Please!"

"What do you want?" I shouted.

"Irene Adler's phone." He demanded. "We know he has it and you're his girlfriend. Now, I'll ask you again, where is it?"

"I don't know!"

Fright welled up in me and I screamed. "Get off me now!"

"Or what?" he laughed as his other comrades started taunting him, egging him on. "You'll kill me."

I spit in his eye and he hit me again. I tried kneeing him and succeeding in doing so. I almost dislodged him, but he grabbed ahold of my throat. "I suggest, you start talking now."

"Hey." One of the men said. "He's coming, knock it off."

"Fine." He sneered over me. "It would have been a pleasure." I lay on the ground, coughing and trembling. "Get up." The man snapped at me. Try as I might, I couldn't find the strength to get up on the couch.

I watched the closed door, waiting for it to open. I heard Sherlock open the door, then I heard his footprints hesitate. I knew he was deducing the way up here, planning his plan of attack. I hoped John was with him and he happened to have his gun on hand. Then, the footsteps grew closer and then finally the door opened. There he was, Sherlock walked in, hands in his pockets, calm as you please.

"Oh, Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson whimpered.

"Don't snivel Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock stated calmly. "It'll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet."

"Sorry." She said. "But Tammy."

Sherlock glanced over at me and I saw his eyes flame angrily as he took my state. "She been coughing like that long?" he asked calmly. "Or aren't any of you aware that she has asthma?"

"No, but she's got a few other things of interest."

The man sneered as Sherlock helped me up onto the couch. his eyes scanned my body and he gently touched my throat. He turned around to eye the men. "I believe you have something that we want Mr. Holmes."

"Then why don't you ask for it?" he stepped forward, discreetly checking Mrs. Hudson for injuries.

"I've been asking this one, she doesn't seem to know anything." He glanced at me. "The other one doesn't know anything either. It's not smart to keep your girlfriend misinformed about anything. She could wake up with a bullet in her head because she got the wrong person mad. But you know what I'm asking for, don't you Mr. Holmes?"

"I believe I do." Sherlock said as he straightened and backed away. "First get rid of your boys."

"Why?"

"I dislike being outnumbered it makes for too much stupid in the room."

The man exhaled. "You two, go down to the car."

"Then get into the car and drive away." Sherlock said, taking control of the situation. "Don't try to trick me. You know who I am. It doesn't work." The man subtly nodded and the two other men walked away. Sherlock waited patiently for their footsteps to become silent. "Next, you're to stop pointing that gun at me."

"Why, so you can point a gun at me?"

Sherlock began spreading his arms out. "I'm unarmed."

"Mind if I check?"

"Oh I insist." "Moron." He went straight to Mrs. Hudson and knelt beside her. "You're all right now."

She nodded. "Yes. But…Tammy, they-

"I'm fine." Sherlock turned towards me, those eyes of his making me tremble all over. But this time, cold washed over me and I pulled my shirt closer to my body. I looked at the ground and moved towards the exit. "I'm going upstairs."

"Tammy," he called behind me. "wait a minute."

He grabbed ahold of my arm and I shouted at him. "Don't you dare touch me!"

Sherlock blinked and took a step back. "Alright," he said gently. "I won't touch you. Are you all right?"

I stared at him. "A man shot at me, he then hit me. He then started threatening to rape and strangle me and you're asking if I'm all right? Of course I'm not all right! I want to be left alone!"

Sherlock studied me for a moment before adding. "Irene Adler is alive. She faked her death."

The blood drained out of my face as disbelief washed over me. "I really didn't need to hear that Sherlock. I really didn't!"

I turned and ran up the stairs to my flat. Once there, I went straight to the bedroom and got a whole new set of clothes. I felt dirty and cheap. I could smell that man on me, I could feel his hands and his eyes on me. I went straight to the bathroom, stripped and got into the shower. I turned the hot water on and grabbed my least favorite bath wash scent so I wouldn't have this memory attached to my favorite soap. I scrubbed at my skin as my tears mingled with the hot water pouring down on me. I'd feel better tomorrow; I just needed a good cry. Especially now since Adler was alive and back into my life. Back into the midddle of my relationship with Sherlock.

* * *

**For Trrmo77, who always reviews every single chapter. Her enthusiasim is quite contagious.**


	22. 22: She's always a woman

Chapter twenty-two

She's always a woman

I curled up inside my bathrobe and rubbed my arms. I glanced down at my hand to see that I'd lost Sherlock's ring. I thought back to when I was last wearing it and I seemed to remember I'd had it when I went downstairs. But when that man….I must have lost it in the struggle. I went down the stairs, treading carefully. Mrs. Hudson was coming out of Sherlock's flat and she looked semi-recovered.

"Tammy," she approached me. "are you all right?"

I nodded. "Just shaken up a little still. I, er uhm, lost Sherlock's ring. I think I lost it in there."

"Oh come," she said wrapping an arm around me and guiding me into the flat. "I'll help you look."

"That won't be necessary Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said as he held out his hand to reveal that he had my ring. "I've got it."

I reached for it. "Thank you." He pulled it out of my reach. "May I have it back please?"

"If you'll let me touch you."

My hair on the back of my neck stood up a little. "Where?"

"Your hand."

I nodded. "All right." I let him take my hand and slide the ring back onto my finger, but he didn't release me. "Sherlock, let me go."

Sherlock didn't. "You said that I could touch your hand." He took my other hand. "And that's what I'm doing."

"Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson said. "she's gone through a traumatic experience."

"She's fine." He said firmly as he tugged me forward. "I just need to talk to her for a while, she'll be fine."

"No!" I said firmly. "I _do not _want to talk to you!"

"But, since you and I are together," he pulled me inside his flat. "we do have to talk."

"I don't want to talk!" I snapped. "I don't want to know about Adler either! Get your hands off me!"

his eyes lit up. "So part of this _is _about Adler then?" he stepped closer and placed his hands on my shoulders. "I thought so. You're upset she's alive?"

"Why the Hell wouldn't I be upset?" I demanded. "You told me she was dead! Now I'm going to be tortured by that…moaning phone!"

he frowned. "The ringtone irritates you?"

"Oh Sherlock!" I shouted. "Why wouldn't I be upset by it? it's a woman….well you know what I mean!"

he studied me for a moment. "You're such a woman aren't you?" I crossed my arms and frowned at him. "Go put on your coat, bundle up warmly and don't forget your scarf."

I totally wasn't expecting that. "What for?"

"Just do it."

"Why?"

he exhaled and pointed me towards the door. "Just go. I've got to change."

Now, morbid curiosity moved me to go upstairs and do as he asked. I completely changed my clothes. I added leggings underneath my slacks and slid into a red sweater. I grabbed my coat, gloves and favorite zebra scarf. Instinct made me add red lipstick and these sensational silver dangle earrings.

I went down the steps and my phone rang. I pulled it out answered it. "Hello?"

_Tammy. _I almost dropped the phone when I realized that it was Moriarty on the other end. _Are you all right?_

"What do you want?" I demanded. "I don't want to talk to you!"

_I heard some killers attacked you today. _He said drolly. _I wanted to make sure you're all right._

"I was fine until you called."

_It's New Years Eve._ He reminded me. _In case you decide Sherlock isn't worth it._

"I love him James."

I said it firmly and I knew that he believed me. _Why?_

"Because, he's my sun."

_Your sun? what does that mean?_

"Figure it out and don't call me again." I clicked the phone off and went down to the flat.

"Come in!" Sherlock called. I pushed the door open and I froze as I took in the sight of him. "What?" He asked as if his appearance were no big deal. "Something wrong in the way I look?"

"You're wearing…jeans."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course. I'm wearing the shirt you got me. You've got good taste, I actually like the blue plaid." He stepped towards me and scent of Sherlock's cologne filled my senses. "Are you ready to go?"

I nodded. "Yes, but I still don't understand where we're going."

"You'll see." He grabbed his coat and pulled it on.

"I hate surprises."

"I know," he grinned at me. "but you're going to love this."

Sherlock refused to answer my questions as we got in the taxi, Sherlock handed our destination on a piece of paper to the driver so I couldn't see where we were going. It was only five minutes away, but Sherlock said I didn't need more cold air than necessary. And then the taxi pulled up in front of a deserted skating rink.

I blinked. "Where is everyone?"

He shrugged as he tugged me to the ice. "A friend of mine closed it down for half an hour for us."

"Sherlock!"

the moment I said his name, the ice rink lit up, dozens of sparkling Christmas lights. White, turquoise and pink. There were candles on the ice as well, definitely the remote controlled candles. It would have almost been romantic, except this was Sherlock I was with.

He assisted me in getting on my shoes, which were waiting by the ice entrance. The thought of getting onto ice caused me to balk. "Sherlock, I'm not too good on slippery surfaces."

"I've got you." He helped me up onto the ice and I pulled away from him to hold onto the side. He shrugged and skated off to the opposite end of the rink, he was good and I felt like a total klutz. He skated back over to me with a careless grin. "Come on."

"It's slippery." And to prove my point, I tripped over my own foot, catching myself on the rail.

Sherlock reached out to steady me, but I shot him a look that warned him to keep his hands off me. He skated slowly backwards while he watched me. "A skate can slide over ice because the ice molecules at the surface cannot properly bond with the molecules of the mass of ice beneath and thus are free to move like molecules of liquid water. These molecules remain in a semi-liquid state, providing lubrication."

"Fascinating." I muttered. Why was he telling me all this useless information?

"It had long been believed that ice is slippery because the pressure of an object in contact with it causes a thin layer to melt. The hypothesis was that the blade of an ice skate, exerting pressure on the ice, melts a thin layer, providing lubrication between the ice and the blade. This explanation, called "pressure melting", originated in the 19th century."

"Sherlock, I am more worried about falling and breaking my neck!"

"Skating depends on the roughness of the ice, the design of the ice skate, and the skill and experience of the skater. While serious injury is rare, a number of short track skaters have been paralyzed after a fall when they hit the boarding." Now I definitely wasn't feeling any better. "Falling can be fatal if a helmet is not worn to protect against serious head trauma. Accidents are rare but most common with collisions, hockey games, or pair skating."

"Sherlock!" I shouted. "Do you mind?!"

"Actually, I was running out of ice skating facts." He laughed as he skated towards me. "I was waiting for you to do that!"

"Do what? Shout at you?"

"You actually took several steps towards me." I looked down and realized I was away from the rail. Sherlock skated up to me and grabbed ahold of my arm. "Now, shall we?"

"I don't know Sherlock."

"You're supposed to trust me."

"I did."

"You did?"

I held onto his arm tightly. "That was before Adler showed up and you got me on ice!" tears again threatened to spill over but frankly I was tired of crying in front of Sherlock. "I know you had feelings for her! I'm not stupid or blind Sherlock!"

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I squirmed slightly. "How long have you known?"

"Since Christmas. I said I wouldn't leave, but if you want to take my ring back, go ahead."

_She can kill with a smile; she can wound with her eyes. She can ruin your faith with her casual lies._

Sherlock spun me around to face him and I grabbed onto his shoulders for support. _And she only reveals what she wants you to see. She hides like a child but she's always a woman to me._

"Do you want me to take it back?" he asked.

_She can lead you to love; she can take you or leave you._

I shook my head and looked down at the ground. "No. But, Sherlock, this is hard for me. I know that you've allowed me to get close but Irene. That phone and….my life was put in danger because of her phone!"

_She can ask for the truth but she'll never believe you._

He took ahold of my chin. "I'm up here, not down there." My eyes burned and I tried to look anywhere but at his face. "I'm here with you," he pointed out. "not her. What does that tell you?"

_And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free. Yeah, she steals like a thief but she's always a woman to me. _

"You're just upset." He said calmly and rationally. "You're scared." Sherlock pulled me into his arms, rubbing my shoulders. "I'm here Tammy."

_Oh, she takes care of herself; she can wait if she wants. She's ahead of her time. Oh, and she never gives out and she never gives in. She just changes her mind._ I just stood there and held onto Sherlock tight as the silent tears leaked down my cheeks. But just having him holding me tight in this moment made all my fears slowly evaporate

"It's ok to cry."

"I am crying."

"Sorry, continue."

_And she'll promise you more than the Garden of Eden, then she'll carelessly cut you and laugh while you're bleeding. But she brings out the best and the worst you can be. Blame it all on yourself cause she's always a woman to me._

I pulled away and wiped my eyes. "I'm fine. Honest. I cry too much."

Sherlock smiled as he wiped my eyes. "You're the prettiest crier I've ever seen." He took my hand. "Shall we?"

"Definitely."

I inhaled, gripped Sherlock's hand and followed his lead. I actually loosened my scarf so I could breathe in some of the night air. _Oh, she takes care of herself; she can wait if she wants. She's ahead of her time. _Sherlock took a hold of my arms and pulled me in front of him. Odd enough, I felt confident enough on ice, as long as he held onto me._ Oh, and she never gives out and she never gives in. She just changes her mind. She is frequently kind and she's suddenly cruel._

I stumbled over my heel and went down. Sherlock let out a shout as he landed on top of me. He cushioned my head with his arm so his arm took the brunt of my weight. I started laughing and he didn't ask if I was all right, my laughter confirmed it.

_She can do as she pleases, she's nobody's fool. But she can't be convicted, she's earned her degree. And the most she will do is throw shadows at you. But she's always a woman to me._

Sherlock pulled me up and wrapped the scarf around my mouth. "You're coughing."

"I'm fine, honest."

"For the moment."

"Where did you learn to skate?"

"It's really basic physics Tammy." We went around the rink a few more times until my coughing started to annoy him. "Let's get you warm." He guided me towards the exit.

"John's probably wondering where we are."

"He still has a wait, this…date isn't over yet."

"This is a date?" he nodded. "Why didn't you say so! Never mind, I know. It was so obvious I should have known. Right?"

He nodded. "Sound deduction. Ready for part two?"

"Definitely."


	23. 23: Sher-locked

Chapter twenty-three

Sher-locked

I laughed as Sherlock and I imitated slow dancing to Glee's version of 'Teenage Dream,' and I couldn't refrain from laughing when they mentioned the skintight jeans. "I didn't know you owned a pair of jeans."

"I actually bought them a while ago." He said. "It didn't seem sensible to wear slacks on ice." Sherlock rested his hands on my hips. "Merry Christmas."

I stared at him. "Christmas?"

"I never got you a present." He stated as he rested his forehead against mine. "So, as you know we've never really had the chance to go on a date. So," he grinned. "how would you like to spend three nights and three days with me?"

"I like the sound of that." I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. "I needed to hear something like this tonight, thank you."

I stretched up and kissed him on the mouth. He smiled contentedly. "I missed you Tammy."

"I missed you too Sherlock. Thank you, I won't forget this."

"Even if I tell you that I may expect to see Adler around soon?"

I bit my lip. "Let's cross that bridge when we come to it." I cleared my throat and asked. "So, why do you have her phone?"

He frowned. "You really want to know?"

"No. I'm asking out of boredom, of course I want to know!"

"All right." He reached into his pocket and handed it to me. "She's created a password that I have yet to crack."

"Understandably. It's your mind trapped in a female's body and females are very complex."

"Some." He didn't like being beaten. "I've guessed twice and I've got two more guesses. The phone is equipped with a self-destruct if I guess wrong."

"Well, I guess she sure locked you out of her phone." Sherlock stopped short, his eyes lighting up in glee. "What?" I realized that I must have solved the puzzle, but I didn't see how I did. "What did I-

"Tammy! You're wonderful and I adore you," he grabbed my hand and tugged me off the dance floor. "we've got to get back to the flat now. Finish this case up and really have those three days free."

I didn't argue with him and I found myself getting rather caught up in his excitement. Sherlock was texting furiously on his phone all the way to Baker's Street. I smiled and leaned back and just watched him, memorizing this moment. My ears rang with him saying that he adored me. I don't know if he intended for those words to leave his head, but I 'm glad they did.

His fingers stilled for a moment and he turned towards me. "You're looking at me."

"No I'm not." I smiled. "I'm taking a picture."

He frowned. "You forgot your phone as always, so how are you taking a picture?"

"A mental one." I smiled. "That way, I can conjure it up when I need to remember this moment.

"Well," he murmured. "charge up that memory of yours. You'll definitely need to take a picture of every moment of what I've got planned tonight."

"Am I going to like it?"

The taxi stopped and he jumped out of his seat. He actually helped me out. "You're going to love it." he murmured, with his face very close to mine. His phone went off and he groaned as he answered it. "What Mycroft?" His face stiffened. "I see. Great. Well, get down here as quick as you can." He turned off the phone. "Now Tammy, I need you to remain calm, but evidentially Irene is in my flat."

My eyes widened and anger bubbled up in me. "Why?"

"Probably wants her phone back." He paid the taxi man and took my arm. "Don't worry, Mycroft is coming to pick her up."

"Thank you." I looked up at him. "Will she be dressed or au natural?"

"Dressed." He rolled his eyes. "Don't be silly Tammy. You're letting your imagination run away with you again."

"And why shouldn't it? We never 'talk' Sherlock, we read minds!" I pulled away from him. "Sherlock, I'd really like to know where I stand with you!"

"You know exactly where you stand with me."

"No! I don't really!" I was getting upset now. "This is what I've been wanting to say but couldn't find the words. Sherlock, it's like I'm living in the song 'Other Lady' and I need to know where I stand now."

He glowered slightly at me. "You'll see after this is over."

"I'd like to know _now_." Sherlock pulled me up the stairs and into his flat. I fought against his grip, but he pulled me into the flat. I let out a hiss and pulled away from him.

"Well," came a seductive female voice from directly behind me. "so, this is your mystery girl." I spun around to see Irene Adler in a short, skin tight, clinging, red dress. She smirked as she approached me. She was really much more attractive in real life than in photos. "So Tam," she purred as she walked up to me. "do you spell your named with an 'I' or 'Y'? I'm really curious."

"It's a 'Y' Irene." I stated. "Just as there are two 'D's in Adder." Irene was a snake and definitely as poisionous as an adder. Coincidence that adder and Adler were similar? I think not.

She laughed. "She's got a witty tongue."

"Indeed." Sherlock pulled off his coat and hung it up. "You've no idea."

"You could be so much more attractive if you did your makeup properly. Your eyes are your good, but you don't emphasize them." Irene boldly reached out and rubbed her hand down my cheek. "Fine cheekbones though." Sherlock stepped towards her at the same time I brought my hand up and slapped her face. Irene didn't cry out, she simply smiled at me. "Well, the rabbit does have a bit of fire after all."

Sherlock took my hand and moved me away from Irene. "Keep your claws off her Irene. She's all ready threatened to turn you into one of the Hulk's creations a few times. Tammy is straight."

"So many women have told me that." She continued looking at me as if I were a mouse and she were a cat. "But I always prove so many of them wrong."

The door opened and Mycroft entered the room. I walked towards him. "Thank goodness, the voice of practicality. Mycroft, get this….thing," Irene snickered at my tone. "out of my sight."

"Sherlock," Mycroft snapped. "you really didn't bring them in here together?"

Sherlock shrugged indifferently. "Why shouldn't I have?"

Mycroft groaned. "I should arrange a flight to Ireland for Tammy, with all expense paid for a week."

"No thank you Mycroft," I said. "however tempting the idea, I don't like going special places by myself."

"And what makes you think she's going anywhere without me?" Sherlock said as he stepped forward towards us. "But hold onto that offer Mycroft, we might take it later."

Mycroft glowered at him. "You're wearing jeans."

"Obviously." He handed Mycroft the phone. "Here you go." He shot Irene a pointed look. "Tammy cracked the code."

Irene stared at me. A weird combination of shock, anger and some terror in her eyes. "You cracked the code for him? I'd have never thought it of you."

Sherlock wrapped his arm around me. "Come on Irene, do you really think I'd love just any girl in the world?" I stared at him. That did it. Sherlock Holmes was offically insane. He just told Irene that….no…Sherlock _did not _just say that. I must be hearing things or this is his evil twin brother! "No. Tammy is something special."

"Something?" I demanded. "Sherlock I am a human being!"

"Tammy," he said. "shut up for a moment." He turned to Irene. "Tammy views you as the 'other lady' in her life. However, what you and she need to know…you never really had a chance." He released me and stepped towards her. "We may be of like minds, highly intelligent beings, but you're simply just not Tammy."

Irene's eyes widened. "You can't possibly mean that…that little wilted violet caught your attention."

"Actually, Tammy never had to catch my attention." He turned towards me. "She dominated my attention the moment we met." I squirmed slightly under his penetrating gaze. "She's a fascinating creature, her attitude varies throughout the hour. She's got a fiery temper and yet she is definitely the kindest, sweetest female I know." I could only stared at Sherlock as he continued speaking while slowly moving towards me. "She puts up with everything I do, she even tolerates the fact that I was, momentarily, seemingly infatuated with you. She flies into a rage one minute over little things and yet her heart holds up under the greatest pain of all. The fear of being unloved." Sherlock took my hands in his, I could tell he was taking my pulse. He wasn't that subtle in his actions. "Listen to me Tammy, because I'm only going to say this one more time to you." I looked up at him and waited for the words to come out. He was silent for a long time, debating, it was almost as if he were unsure how I'd react to whatever it was he was going to say. Then… he said the words. "I love _you _Tammy." My world spun around in my head and I swayed just a little. I couldn't believe he said that to me! In front of his brother and Irene. "And Irene, can't compare to you."

"You can't possibly mean that!" Irene burst out. " Just look at her!"

"I do mean it, and I am looking at her. Like most people, you see but you do not observe." He turned away from me, but didn't let me go. "Mycroft, escort her out of here please. If you're feeling kind lock her up, otherwise let her go, I doubt she'll survive very long without her protection."

" Are you expecting me to beg?" Irene demanded, I could hear some tears in her voice and I almost felt sorry for her. "You know I can't survive without that phone."

"Yes, but I don't have time for this." I could hear the irritation creeping into his voice. He glanced at his watch. "I only have 10 minutes until the New Year begins and I have an important, pressing engagement with Tammy." He glanced at me. "I had Mrs. Hudson leave a dress out for you in your room while we were out. Go upstairs, put it on and then meet me down here again."

"You can't order her around like that Sherlock." Mycroft said.

I held up my hand and nodded. "I'll go."

"And make it quick." He began pulling off his coat and shirt. "We don't have much time left."

I nodded and stumbled up the stairs. I'd made it up to my flat when I heard Mycroft shout, "What?" and Irene let out a shriek that I didn't understand. Sherlock laughed at them and I closed the door. I entered my bedroom to find my black cocktail dress on my bed, freshly ironed. I began pulling off my clothes, dropping them on the ground. I don't know why I was doing what he said, all things considered. But then again, this was Sherlock. I recreated my look and grabbed my coat. I trotted down the stairs, hanging onto the rail.

Mycroft and Irene came out of Sherlock's flat, both looked upset slightly. Mycroft looked at me and shook his head. Irene, she looked at me as if I was an inferior insect. "I don't understand it." She said to Mycroft. "Why her?"

"I don't know."

"Oh for God's sake," Sherlock said as he came out behind them, pulling on his coat. "stop talking about Tammy as if she weren't here." He looked at me and took my hand. "Right. Let's go."

"But," I asked as he dragged me out the door. "where are we going?"

"You'll see."


	24. 24: Happy New Year

Chapter twenty-four

Happy New Year

Sherlock drummed his fingers impatiently on the side of his leg as we walked briskly down the street. I shivered and he noticed. "Still cold?" I nodded and released my hand so he could wrap his arm around my shoulder. "Better?"

"A little." I frowned. "Where are we going?"

"Angelo's."

"Oh!" I said. "I should have realized. We're one building away from it now."

Sherlock stopped abruptly and stepped in front of me. "What hunts in the middle of a crowd? Who do we trust even when we don't know them?"

I paused. "A taxi driver." Then, light slowly began to break over me. We were standing, in the exact same place where we met. What was he doing? Why was he recreating our first meeting?"

He clicked his tongue. "Very good." He continued walking towards Angelo's. he opened the door for me and let me in. once inside, he reached for my coat, his long fingers brushed my neck. "I could get used to removing your coat."

I paused. "Sherlock, what are you up to?"

"You'll see."

Angelo bustled over. "Sherlock!" he gave Sherlock a hug and Sherlock tried not to make a face, but he didn't succeed. Angelo flashed him a huge grin. "I've got your table all ready. Just follow me."

Sherlock took my hand and I walked behind him, somewhat nervous. Then, I saw the table. It was…beautiful. Tucked away in a dark corner. It was decorated intimately, candles, red roses, and little candy kisses sprinkled here and there. There were two champagne goblets waiting for us. As Sherlock seated me, Angelo opened the champagne and poured it for us.

"Thank you Angelo, can we have a few minutes to order?"

"Of course." Angelo hurried off and I was left with Sherlock. I then took note of his clothes. He was in a black suit and he had a stiff, white shirt on. He wasn't wearing a tie, of course, but it was buttoned to the top. Sherlock reached for his menu and practically hid behind it. "Any idea of what you'd like?"

"I'd like to have an idea of what's going on." I said nervously. "One moment we're dancing, then, I'm meeting Irene Adler, then I'm down here at Angelo's ten minutes to New Year and you're hiding behind your menu."

He glanced from behind it. "I _am not _hiding behind my menu. And, I think you should have a vague idea of what I'm going to do at Midnight." He glanced at his watch. I trembled and looked at the menu. So far, nothing looked good. "And don't order a sandwich."

"Did you mean it?" I asked.

"That you can't order a sandwich? Of course I meant it."

he glanced at his watch again and I bit my lip. "Not that. When you said that….you….love me. Did you…mean that?"

time seemed to stand still as I waited for his answer. Sherlock reached over and gripped my hand. "Look at me." He said gently. I trembled and looked up at him. Sincerity was written in those piercing eyes of his. "I meant it Tammy."

All the air whooshed out of me and I gripped his hand tightly. He glanced at his watch again. "Why," I asked breathlessly. "do you keep looking at that watch?"

"I was going to ask at midnight, but you're making this rather difficult." I bit my lip slightly and his eyes went to my mouth. "Extremely difficult." Sherlock caught my face in his hands and pulled me towards him. I trembled and shook when he stopped so that our foreheads were close enough to touch if either of us moved. "Tammy will you marry me?"

I gasped in complete shock. I was definitely not expecting those words to come out of his mouth! Why was he asking me? Tonight of all nights? Oh I knew! It was the end of a year and he wanted to begin a New Year with our relationship firmly established. I should have thought about my answer and everything that the years would hold for us. I should have thought about it long and hard. But in that instance I decided to stop listening to my hand and listen to my heart. And the answer that my heart shouted at me floated to my lips.

"Yes, Sherlock."

He then captured my mouth in a liplock that threatened to light up the London Eye for a month! I gasped and grabbed at his wrists as the seconds turned into minutes. My heart pounded wildly as Sherlock kissed me again. The sound of applause and cheering rang through the restaurant caused us to break apart. I clung to him tightly as Sherlock hugged me, his face buried into the side of my neck. "Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year."

Sherlock pulled away and reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box. "You're shaking." He observed as he took my hand.

I nodded. "I'm trying not to cry, laugh and scream for joy at the same time."

He smirked. "You're quite emotional, but that's one of the things I like about you." He opened the box, revealing a traditional diamond engagement ring. "You're a traditionalist, I didn't think you'd like a huge diamond or anything ridiculous looking."

"I love this Sherlock." I assured him as he slid it on my finger. I looked at his face. "I love the man who's giving me the ring more than the ring."

Sherlock kissed my hand just as Angelo bustled over. "So, did she say "Yes" Sherlock?" Sherlock held up my hand, revealing my ring. Angelo clapped his hands. "Congratulations! I get to kiss the bride right?"

"Of course." I said as Angelo hugged me and kissed my cheek. "Thank you."

"You smut be a very special woman if you can put up with him." He exhaled. "A life of constant craziness."

I blushed. "He's actually, very easy to put up with." Sherlock puffed up just a little bit so added. "Most of the time."

"Thanks."

Angelo shook his hand. "So, when's the wedding?"

Sherlock looked at me. "Most likely Valentine's Day." I stared at him. "Your parents, married on Valentine's Day. You have no living relatives, so you'd want to feel somewhat close to your parents on your wedding day."

I got a little misty eyed as I nodded. "Yes. Valentine's Day it will be." I decided to risk it and ask. "Angelo, would you mind if we had the reception here?"

Angelo looked as if he were going to keel over in surprise. "Of course I wouldn't mind! Everything will be on the house."

"Oh no." I shook my head. "That'll cost you too much!"

"It won't be so much." He clapped Sherlock's shoulder. "Nothing is too much for this man."

"But surely-

"No, I insist!" I stared at him as he automatically resumed control of the situation. "You come down tomorrow at 1:00 and we will discuss the cocktails, wine, appetizer, main course, and the wedding cake!" Angelo bustled away

I turned to Sherlock who was grinning at me. "How do you argue with a man like that?"

"You can't. don't worry, we'll leave him a check anyway." He glanced at the menu. "So, what do want to eat?"

I exhaled and shook my head as I covered my flaming face in my hands. "I think I'll skip dinner and go straight to desert."

"Fine." He grabbed my hand from my face. "Now, look at the menu and pick something."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not hungry."

On cue, my stomach growled. Sherlock smirked. "I don't believe you." He turned to Billy and took the menu from my hand. "Tammy will have the buffalo chicken with a small salad and some fries," he made a face. "with extra salt. I'll have the house Special."

"Right away."

I folded my arms and tried to look cross at him. "I can order for myself."

"You were taking too long."

"Well…it did sound good. How'd you know about the extra salt?"

"It's the American in you, you always like too much salt on your fries." He reached for my hand and toyed with it. "Good thing I know you so well then."

"Really?"

"All right, pretty well." Sherlock groaned as his phone went off. He glowered at the screen. "Mycroft."

Mine phone went off as well and my blood ran cold as I looked at the number. "Moriarty." I looked up at Sherlock, his face was cold. I bit my lip. "He called me right before I came downstairs tonight."

"What did he want?"

"He wanted to know if I was all right and if I wanted to break up with you. I told him no."

Sherlock handed me his phone and took mine. "Shall we get this over with?"

I nodded and answered the phone. "Hello Mycroft."

_Tammy? I need to talk to Sherlock._

"About what?" I said. "He's talking to James at the moment." I inhaled and said. "Sherlock proposed to me."

There was silence on a long time. _And what did you say?_

"I accepted him."

_Tammy ,please reconsider. Be sure before you make a decision. Is life with my brother what you really want?_

"It is Mycroft." Sherlock began shouting at Moriarty and I cleared my throat. "I've got to go. what did you need to talk to him about?"

_I was going to tell him to reconsider, but now, what can one say?_

"You can wish me luck."

_Good luck Tammy, and congratulations. _

I turned off the phone at the same time Sherlock drew his arm back to throw my phone at the wall. "Wait!" I shouted and he paused. "That's my phone." I handed him his phone. "Here, throw this one."

Sherlock made a face. "Yours is an old phone."

"I'll make you buy me the _exact _same replica to replace mine if you damage it and that will take some detective work. I laughed and wrapped my arm about him. "So, what did he tell you?"

"Oh he was spreading his typical threats of gloom and doom. Boring. so original. What did Mycroft want?"

"He wanted you to reconsider asking me. He was too late of course."

Sherlock picked up the champagne glass and I followed his example. "Happy New Year Tammy."

"Happy New Year Sherlock." We sipped our champagne and then I announced. "Sherlock, from here on out there will only be kissing permitted." He stopped in mid drink and stared at me. "No more playing around or sleeping in each other's bed."

He set the glass down. "Why on earth not?"

"I think it's proper."

"Oh for God's sake Tammy," he scooted his chair forward. "are you really serious?"

"Yes I am."

"And I cannot touch you?"

"Well you can touch my hand or arm Sherlock. Certain areas….are restricted for the time being."

"Such as?"

I shook my head. "You know _exactly _what I mean and you know that I am not going to name the places. As for kissing, only on the mouth or cheek." Sherlock leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his propped elbow. "No neck or anywhere else."

He frowned. "If you're thinking that I'm actually going to obey these rules," I arched my brow. "I can't promise anything."

"You will. And further more," I leaned forward slightly. "on valentine's night, you're definitely going to be looking forward to a great many things."

Sherlock nodded and took my hand. "Thank you Tammy."

I frowned. "For what?"

"For waiting for me." At my frown he asked. "Do you not remember those words you spoke to Mycroft when he was taunting your virginity?"

"_If your brother, had proposed to me and we'd married at least he'd have the satisfaction of knowing that even though I didn't know where he was in the world, that my head and heart decided that he was worth waiting for."_

I nodded. "Yes."

Sherlock leaned forward and kissed me on the nose. "Thanks for waiting Tammy."

"I hope I'm worth it."

"You were worth the mystery, so don't think you're not worth it. Incidentally, are kisses on the nose allowed?"

I laughed and squeezed his hand. The rest of the night was magical. Sherlock and I talked about some of the wedding details. John, of course would be the best man and Mrs. Hudson would be my matron of honor. I insisted on inviting molly, Lestrade and Sherlock's family. Sherlock said that they'd probably try to take over my wedding arrangements and I'd have to not let them bully me.

We didn't want an elaborate wedding. The ceremony could actually take place in my flat, then, we'd all go down to Angelo's to have the reception. We walked back to Baker's Street. We'd both keep our flats; Sherlock would clear out his bedroom and use mine. That way he had more room to put his experiments and we wouldn't have to adjust our way of life. Sherlock could be messy and my flat could be clean.

Sherlock walked me up to my flat and respectfully kissed me goodnight. But as I turned to walk into my flat he pinched me. "Sherlock!"

"What?" he said innocently as he turned and trotted down the stairs. "Did you expect me to behave all the time?"

"Yes!"

"Wishful thinking Tammy."


	25. 25: The human heart is a fragile thing

Chapter twenty-five

The human heart is a fragile thing

My phone buzzed the following morning with a text from Sherlock. _Mrs. Hudson and John are coming up for breakfast in 5 minutes. Better get down here fast. _

I groaned and hauled myself out of bed. I washed my face and grabbed my robe and stumbled down the stairs, solemnly vowing to rip some of his hair out. But the moment I pushed the door open to his flat, Sherlock was there with a cup of cocoa extended towards me. "Good morning."

I yawned and took it from him "Good morning." I kissed his cheek and brushed by him.

"That wasn't much of a kiss." He whined.

I grinned as he turned me around. "It wasn't supposed to be. But, I could be persuaded to give you a proper good morning kiss." I took a sip out of my cocoa and the hot liquid scorched my lips. "That was hot, I burned my mouth."

He leaned forward. "Shall I cool your lips down for you?" A door opened from behind us and he groaned. "That could only be John."

I laughed as Sherlock moved away from me. "He always has impeccable timing." I turned to John who looked dead tired. "Happy New Year John."

"Happy New Year Tammy," he let out a yawn as he shoved his hands inside his robe pockets. "sorry about the interruption."

"Doesn't matter, I'm getting used to them." Sherlock plopped onto the couch, sitting in what I'd dubbed his 'monkey' position. His feet on the part where normally sat and his hands folded on his knees. "So, how were things with Jeanette?"

John frowned. "Fine. I guess. We broke up this morning."

"Oh John, I'm sorry."

"I never liked her." Sherlock said.

I hit his shoulder. "Sherlock." He plopped down to the couch, sitting properly. "Be nice!"

"Fine."

"Yoo hoo." Mrs. Hudson came in with an orange cranberry bread loaf. "Did everyone have a Happy New Year?"

I nodded as I sat on the arm of the couch. "Yes." Sherlock confiscated my cocoa and tugged me down beside him. I laughed as he wrapped his arm around my waist. "I had a wonderful New Year."

John frowned. "Did I miss something?"

"Yes." Sherlock jumped up off the couch, taking me up with him. "So John and Mrs. Hudson, do the two of you have any plans for Valentines Day?"

"No."

"The year just started, why would we have any plans?" John pointed out. "Valentine's day is a little over a month away."

"I'm aware of that." Sherlock wasn't going to give them any time to adjust and he just let them have it in typical Sherlock fashion. "Tammy and I are getting married and I want you, John, to be the best man and Tammy want's Mrs. Hudson to be her matron of honor. Can you two make it?"

The keys fell from John's hand and he stared at Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson appeared stunned as well. "What…did you just say?"

I held up my hand, revealing my engagement ring. "We're getting married."

"And," Sherlock repeated. "I want you to be the best man. Did that come through John or shall I have to spell it out for you?"

Mrs. Hudson bustled up to me and hugged me. "Oh my dear. Congratulations." She hugged Sherlock and he didn't make a face this time. "Oh, I can't believe it."

I grinned. "Neither can John evidentially."

John cleared his throat and walked up to me. He hugged me tightly. "Congratulations Tammy." He held me for a while. "I hope you have a happy and wonderful life ahead of you."

"Thank you John."

"Will the two of you break it up?" Sherlock complained. "After all, she is my bride!"

I laughed as John walked up to Sherlock. He shook Sherlock's hand before hugging him. "You don't deserve her."

Sherlock frowned. "Why?"

"Because you're an idiot." I watched the two of them. I knew each other well enough to know that John wanted to say many things to Sherlock, but couldn't exactly find them at this moment. "But then, I don't know a better man for her. Take care of her and be kind to her."

Sherlock frowned. "When have I ever been anything else but that?"

I laughed and John rolled his eyes. "Shall I mention fifty-seven incidents?"

"Don't bother." Sherlock said as he draped his arm possessively around my neck. "Tammy and I sorted everything out didn't we?"

"Indeed. I know exactly where I stand ," I swatted his rear and Sherlock jumped in surprise. "and now I want some breakfast."

"Did you just-

"You know I did Sherlock," I said as I walked towards the kitchen. "and don't even think about attempting to repay me in the same favor or I'll invite Anderson."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I might."

"You're a bad liar Tammy."

"Want me to test that theory?"

* * *

After breakfast, I went down to the New Scotland Yard to see Lestrade. I wanted a traditional wedding and I needed someone to walk me down the aisle. Lestrade was a fine man and I couldn't think of anyone else would could walk me down the aisle. At times, his manner of speech reminded me of my father and I knew had the two of them would have been good friends.

Sally ushered me into his office, she was curious about my business but I didn't indulge her. Fortunately, she wasn't observant and failed to notice my rings on my hand.

"Tammy Taylor is here to see you," she said. "on secret business."

Lestrade was engrossed in his work but he stopped when he saw me. "Tammy." He stood up. "What a surprise."

"Hello Greg."

"What are you doing here?"

"I have a favor to ask of you."

"What is it?" he asked.

I glanced behind me to see that sally had left the room and I smiled. "Well it's going to be a surprise."

"And does it happen to involve Sherlock?" he asked. "I bet it does."

"And you'd be right." I bit my lip and blurted out. "Sherlock asked me to marry him."

"He what?" His mouth dropped open in shock.

"Freak did what?" I spun around to glare at Sally who'd snuck in quietly behind me with some paperwork. "I mean, Sherlock did what?"

I turned back to Lestrade who was staring at me. I held out my hand, showing him my ring. "He proposed yesterday, and…I accepted him."

"Oh my word." Lestrade hugged me. "Congratulations Tammy."

"May I extend my congratulations and condolences?" sally asked.

"Get out sally." Lestrade snapped. "This is a big moment for every girl and you're spoiling it. And don't you go telling Andersen or anybody else! Is that clear?"

"Yes." She muttered as she slammed the door.

"Thank you." I said as sally exited the room. "They'll find out sooner or later though. Sherlock would definitely prefer never."

He shook his head. "I don't know how you were able to capture his attention, much less his heart, but if you're happy, that's all that matters."

"I am happy." I cleared my throat. "I wanted to ask….uhm…this may be a bit awkward."

"Take your time." He said as he offered me a chair and took the next seat next to me. "This is quite a big day."

I exhaled. "Well, both my parents are dead." I looked at him, he nodded sympathetically. "And…I have no other living relatives. So, would you….walk me down the aisle? Please?" Lestrade was stunned for a second and I began explaining. "I would have asked John, but Sherlock wants him to be his best man. Mrs. Hudson, she's to be the matron of honor. Molly Hooper is going to be my only bridesmaid. Outside of Sherlock's immediate family, I don't know many people in London. And you're a good man and I know my father would approve of you taking his place."

Lestrade squeezed my hand. "Of course, I'd be honored d to walk you down the aisle."

"Thank you."

"So when is the wedding?"

"Valentines Day."

His brow rose. "Who's in a hurry, you or him?"

"It was actually Sherlock's suggestion, but he asked because he knew that my were parents married on Valentines Day. He knew I'd want to keep them close in my heart." I rubbed my hands. "I know he's unusual at times, but I love him, even when I'm mad at him. He loves me too, he just doesn't say it often."

"I trust that he had to decency to say that he loved you when he proposed?"

I shook my head. "He didn't really. He actually only told me that he loved me once and that was _before _he proposed."

Lestrade laughed. "That's Sherlock for you."

"He said he's only going to tell me that he loves me one more time. I suspect he's saving that for our wedding vows."

"I imagine. I hope for his sake, that'll he'll say it more often than that." His tone told me that he spoke from experience. "The human heart is a fragile thing and they need to be told that they're loved as often as possible."

I nodded. "Sherlock waited to tell me when I needed to hear it most of all. I'm hoping that maybe he'll say it to me on occasion." My phone went off and I apologized. "I'm sorry." I glanced at the screen. It was from Sherlock. "It's from him."

_Tammy, bother Lestrade later. I don't want Andersen or Sally finding out that we're getting married._

I texted back. _Sally all ready knows, she walked in when I was talking to Greg._

His reply was almost immediate. _Who is Greg?_

I groaned. "He's such an idiot." "What'd he do now?" I handed him my phone and showed him the text. Lestrade glowered at him. "After all these years and he still doesn't know my first name." "I'll make inform him of your identity in time. Like…tomorrow." "He won't like that." "I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to tell him tomorrow." My phone went off again and I glowered at him. _Who is Greg?_ I texted back. _Wouldn't you like to know! You're the detective, start deducing! _


	26. 26: Valentine's day

Chapter twenty-six

Valentine's day

"Oh Tammy," Mrs. Hudson said as I smoothed my wedding dress. She sniffled as she surveyed me. "You look so beautiful."

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson."

I chose the dress, 'MacClare' from David Tutera's 2014 Spring Collection. I referred to it as his 'Downton Abbey' collection because each dress was named after a character in Downton abbey. It was a strapless, lacy, mermaid wedding dress with a scalloped sweetheart neckline. It came with a hand-beaded jeweled belt. The scalloped hemline spilled into a chapel length train. It came with detachable spaghetti and halter straps, which I decided that I wouldn't use.

Planning the wedding was a lot simpler than most weddings. I decorated my flat the way it should be. Excess furniture was moved to into storage for a few days so we could hold the ceremony in front of the mantle piece. Angelo went all out on the menu. He talked me out of doing a wedding cake and went along with Sherlock and my favorite dessert.

Sherlock had put up such a complaint about wearing a tuxedo that I decided not to even ask him to dance with me on our wedding day. John however said that Sherlock _would _be wearing suitable wedding attire even if he had to hold a gun to Sherlock's head. And true to his word, John came back with Sherlock in tow, and a suit ready for Sherlock to wear today. Sherlock was complaining about his whole outfit and John promptly told him to shut up and deal with it.

Sherlock and I did have to switch rooms to change though. He dressed up in my room and I put on my makeup and everything down in his. Last night he told me not to spill my makeup on anything of his and I promptly squirted him with my perfume. He spent the next hour complaining about how he smelt like 'white diamonds' and I'd ruined his suit.

Molly stood beside me, wearing a floor length red dress that would definitely have every man, except Sherlock, staring at her in surprise. "Sherlock is going to stare at you. John hired someone to film the ceremony and the reception afterwards. That's his present to you."

I gasped. "Oh, I shall have to kiss him for that. How wonderful of him." Someone tapped on the door. "Who is it?"

"It's me." Greg said. "Sherlock is getting antsy. He says you're five minutes late."

I laughed. "I'm ready Greg. Come on in."

He pushed the door open and stared at me. "Wow." I blushed at his gaze. It was a gaze that a father would give his daughter. "You look beautiful Tammy."

"Thank you."

He kissed my forehead and stared at me. "I never said thank you, for asking me to walk you down the aisle. I never had a daughter that I could walk down the aisle."

Tears filled my eyes. "I don't have a father to walk me down the aisle, I'm certain he'd be pleased with my choice."

"Hey," he wiped my eyes. "can't have you crying on today of all days."

I nodded and squared my shoulders. "I'm ready." I reached for my bouquet of pink and blue roses. I had my mother's pearl necklace for something; my dress was something new. Mrs. Hudson had lent me her shoes that she wore at her wedding and they fit me perfectly and my roses were something blue.

He took my arm. "Shall we?"

I nodded and we walked up the stairs. I could just imagine Sherlock complaining to John about my walking too slow. Then, I stood outside the door. Mrs. Hudson entered first, then molly and I heard Sherlock. "I bet you anything John she is taking her sweet time on purpose."

Mycroft snapped. "Oh shut up Sherlock."

I entered the room and Sherlock's eyes lit up and for the first time, I saw unrestrained love in his eyes as he took in the sight of me. I blushed and gripped Lestrade's arm tighter to keep from running up to Sherlock and jumping into his arms that instance.

Lestrade muttered just so I could hear. "Well, glad to see he's anxious to see you."

I merely smiled, I'm afraid I was doing a bit of ogling myself. John had gotten Sherlock into a tuxedo, with a tie, and a freshly laundered handkerchief and he even got Sherlock to wear the boutonniere that matched my bouquet.

Lestrade kissed my cheek before letting Sherlock take my hand and pull me towards him. "You look," Sherlock murmured. "beautiful."

I blushed under his gaze. "Thank you."

Then the minister began reading the familiar words that began the marriage ceremony to us. "Marriage is an honorable estate. It is not to be entered into lightly or unadvisedly, but discreetly and soberly. Into this relationship these two persons come now to be joined. I ask you both that if you know any reason why you should not be joined in marriage, you make it known at this time."

I must admit, I was expecting James to jump out from somewhere with a complaint, but he didn't. I relaxed and Sherlock squeezed my hand reassuringly. I glanced down at where he had his hands and sure enough, he was taking my pulse again. I shook my head at him in dismay and he simply smirked at me.

"Happiness in marriage is not something that just happens. A good marriage must be created. In the 'Art of Marriage', the little things are the big things. It is never being too old to hold hands. It is remembering to say 'I love you' at least once a day." Sherlock rolled his eyes and I fought back a laugh. "It is never going to sleep angry, it is at no time taking the other for granted. The courtship should not end with the honeymoon, it should continue through all the years."

The minister studied us for a moment before continuing. "It is having a mutual sense of values and common objectives. It is standing together facing the world. It is doing things for each other, not in the attitude of duty or sacrifice, but in the spirit of joy. It is speaking words of appreciation and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways." Sherlock nodded and I frowned at that. "It is not expecting the husband to wear a halo or the wife to have wings of an angel. It is not looking for perfection in each other." I nodded as well. Sherlock didn't expect me to be perfect and I loved his imperfections. "It is cultivating flexibility, patience, understanding and a sense of humor. It is having the capacity to forgive and forget. It is giving each other an atmosphere in which each can grow. It is a search for the good and beautiful. It is establishing a relationship in which the independence is equal, dependence is mutual and the obligation is reciprocal. It is not only marrying the right partner; it is being the right partner. You may now speak your vows."

I inhaled and waited for Sherlock to speak. He bit his lip and looked down at my hands, which he held for a moment. This was the part that Sherlock had been dreading all year, showing his emotions to everyone in the room. We'd both decided to select different wedding vows that spoke for what our hearts wanted to say, but our tongue failed to let free.

I squeezed his hand and he looked at me. "It's just the two of us." I said quietly. "Say them to me."

My words were the encouragement he needed; he stepped closer towards me. "I used to be afraid of falling in love, of giving my heart away. How could I trust a woman to love me, to give to me all that I wanted to give to her? Tammy," that voice, those eyes, the blaze I felt inside me was so much that it stopped the heart beating within my breast. "when I met you, I realized how much we could share together." I stared at him in amazement and he nodded. "And that would be right from the moment you said that you were pleased to meet me, and you so obviously weren't." I ducked my head as everyone laughed. "You have renewed my life and I love you. Today, I join that life with yours."

Sherlock reached out and wiped my eye, I hadn't realized I was crying. "Sorry." I cleared my throat and gripped his hand. "As freely, Sherlock," my voice broke and I had to clear my throat again. This time, the words came out clearly. "as God has given me life, I join my life with yours. Wherever you go, I will go, whatever you face, I will face. For good or ill, in happiness or sadness, come riches or poverty," I couldn't resist personalizing the vow like he had. "in safety…and in danger." Sherlock laughed and my heart soared up above the Heavens. "I take you as my husband, and will give myself to no other."

He grinned. "I'm holding you to that."

"I insist."

I was certain that Sherlock would have kissed me that instance but the minister's voice stopped him short. "You may now place the ring on her finger."

John placed a gold wedding band in Sherlock's hand and he slid the ring on my finger. I smiled; it was simple, with a interlacing heart pattern going around it. He whispered. "If you'd prefer a diamond, I could,"

"No." I said firmly. "It's a beautiful ring Sherlock. I love it."

"You are mature people who have established individual patterns of living." The minister continued and I feared he would never finish up. Sherlock was getting impatient as well, rocking on his heels. "Yet, you have found not only a need for companionship, but also the satisfaction of that need in each other's company. It is this love, based upon a responsible understanding, that will aid you in creating out of your two lives, a marriage and happiness you will share together. Stand fast in hope and confidence, believing in you and believing in each other. Inasmuch as you two have come before your friends and family and have declared your love and devotion to each other, I now greet you with them as husband and wife." He glanced at Sherlock. "And now, you may kiss your bride."

Sherlock moved in slowly, making everyone, including me wait for the kiss. He stroked my chin with the back of his hand before cupping my face in his hands. He leaned forward slowly, relishing my pulse throbbing under his touch. I let out a stifled gasp as he tilted my face up towards his. He studied me for a moment before he stepped closer to me. I closed my eyes as his fingers continued stroking my chin, waiting for that kiss.

And that's when I tasted his lips for the first time as his wife. The kiss was as pure and beautiful as sunlight streaming into a dark, wood forest. I felt him pause momentarily, as if he too were by surprise of the feel of my mouth on his. This first kiss was like a magic whisper and he was kind enough to provide me with another taste. The second kiss was breath mingling with skin, very potent. The third kiss, he applied a more pressure to my lips. This time, I did let out a moan as his hands slipped down my shoulders, around my waist as he pressed me tightly to him. My arms crept up around his shoulders and I held onto him tightly. For a moment, I couldn't hear anything except for the pounding of my heart.

Sherlock pulled away and murmured in my ear. "Hello, Mrs. Holmes."

"Hello Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock hugged me and John let out a loud cheer as I clung to my husband. Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Holmes were crying happily. Molly was clapping joyfully while Mycroft and Mr. Holmes were clapping solemnly. Then, we were bombarded by hugs and congratulations by everyone. Sherlock took it pretty well, but he was more focused on me.

After ten minutes he grew impatient. "All right everyone, it's time to walk down to Angelo's. I know Tammy's hungry, because I know that she didn't eat anything this morning."

I elbowed him. "Of course I didn't eat anything this morning! What bride does?" Everyone laughed and I glanced around. "I need to get my coat first."

Sherlock nodded. "I'll help you. John, can you make sure everyone gets down there?"

"Sure thing."

Sherlock followed me down the stairs and I said. "You're being obvious Sherlock."

"Naturally." The moment we entered the room, he slammed the door behind me and I jumped. He pinned me against it. "Now, I think we have five minutes before anyone gets suspicious." His voice was low in pitch and his hand gripped my hip firmly. "I said once you looked like a goddess in black, but you're definitely an angel in white."

I let out a quiet cry. "Sherlock, we do have a wedding reception to go to."

Words died as he kissed the pulse point on my neck. "Yes," he said. "and we've got maintain a polite atmosphere for almost six hours." I whimpered as my legs threatened to buckle on me. His hand slowly crept up my side. I twitched and then jumped forward as he touched my breast. "Easy." His voice was a hoarse whisper, causing my stomach to clench in what I assumed was desire. "You have get used to my touch."

"Sherlock." I groaned as the temperature in room skyrocketed. "The reception." I then let out a yelp as he squeezed them in his hand. "Sherlock!"

Then for some reason, Sherlock pulled away from me. I brushed my hair back from my face and straightened my veil. I stepped away from him, with my heart pounding crazily in my chest.

"Someone's coming." He stated, something in his tone caused me to pause. "Someone uninvited."

I froze. "Who?" Sherlock whipped the door open to reveal…my brother on the other side of the door. I gasped and clutched at my pearl necklace. "You! What are you doing here!"

"Well," he said drolly. "I am your brother after all."

"Not, anymore." I gripped Sherlock's hand. "Why do you always have to spoil everything?" I felt tears starting. "Can't I even enjoy my wedding day in peace?"

"Sorry, but I only came here to give you this." He handed me a small box. "Open it."

I frowned and opened it. I then stopped short as I saw my mother's wedding ring inside. I touched it with a shaking hand. "Mother's…wedding ring?"

"I did find her body." He said. "Took a while, but I had the right contacts even then."

I bit my lip as more unwanted tears filled my eyes. "Thank you."

He nodded and turned to walk away, but something stopped and he turned around to face me. "I suppose it would be asking to much if I asked to kiss the bride?"

I hesitated for a moment, but I nodded. "Go ahead."

He kissed my cheek and I shuddered slightly. Then, I felt Sherlock's hand on my waist giving me strength. "Be happy," he shot Sherlock a pointed look. "for however long you two have together."

"I'm betting on the next fifty years." Sherlock said cheekily as he closed the door. "Can't say the same about you though." With that, he guided me down the stairs, out the down and he assumed a brisk pace down the street with me beside him. "You ok?"

I nodded. "Oddly enough, I feel nothing except pity for him. He's been gone so long now, that he's like a stranger to me. You didn't lock the door!"

"Tammy, you couldn't lock me out of a room if you tried, what's the sense of locking him out of the room? And," he wiggled his eyebrows. "I promise I shall make you forget everything about him by tonight."

"Sherlock." I blushed red at the suggestive tone in his voice. "You shouldn't talk so." He squeezed my hip and I yelped. "We are in public."

He laughed. "So what? You started this came earlier, remember? From here on out, it's _all hands on._ And you, are going to regret making me wait."

My stomach bounced around inside me. "Why am I worried that I am going to regret those propositions?"

"You will." Sherlock wrapped his arm around me. "We forgot your coat."

"I've got you." I assured him. "I'm warm enough."

* * *

**Almost forgot to mention, anyone wondering about Tammy's wedding dress and her infamous black cocktail dress, will find the link on my profile page!**


	27. 27: The reception

Chapter twenty-seven

The reception

The reception was…beautiful. Angelo had outdone himself. The room was filled with red, white and pink Christmas lights. The tables had centerpieces with real flowers that were sprayed with glitter on the petals. There was a dance floor open for us and I insisted on the kitchen staff joining in the festivities once dinner was served. Sherlock and I both shared one plate together. He never ate much and I could never eat when I was overly happy and nervous.

Everything was delicious. Angelo had the best breadsticks in the world. He knew Sherlock and I both loved them, so they were the appetizers. Smothered in cheese and just the perfect blend of spices, with a side of warmed pizza sauce. Then, Italian salad with a delightfully tangy dressing. The main dish was creamy chicken served over tomato sauce and penne pasta. The Italian chocolate love cake…oh, it was simply heavenly. It was a combination of a marble cake and cheesecake with a creamy chocolate topping. I couldn't refrain from moaning in delight the moment it passed my lips.

Sherlock observed my reaction instantly. "You like that don't you?"

I nodded. "Oh, it tastes like heaven." He took my hand and stuck my finger in the topping. I frowned. "Why did you," then, he put my finger in his mouth, slowly sucking the frosting off my finger. My face went red and I couldn't look away. "Sherlock." He ignored me and concentrated on the task at hand. I bit my lip and hissed. "Mycroft is watching."

He rolled his eyes and let me pull my finger from his mouth. "Let him look on." He then pulled his tie off and handed it to me. "I hate these." Sherlock let out a groaned as John stood up. "Oh no."

I elbowed him. "Shut up." It was time for John to make his speech as the best man. He unlike most men, actually looked forward to the speech.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen." John said courteously. "For those of you that don't know me, my name's John Watson, and I've had the privilege of being Sherlock's best man. I hope you've all enjoyed everything so for, and I think you'll all agree that the bride looks…. Absolutely stunning!" He muttered under his breath in typical John fashion. "The groom looked absolutely stunned." I laughed loudly. "Now this is only going to be a short speech because of my throat. If I go on too long Sherlock's threatened to cut it!"

"No I didn't!" He muttered indignantly.

"You know, it's been said that being asked to be best man is a great honor that no one really wants to do." John leaned forward slightly. "That's a lie. This is the bit I've REALLY been looking forward to!"

"Oh God." Sherlock groaned. I rubbed his shoulder in false sympathy.

Well, what can I tell you about the groom? I've known him for about 2 years, he's Handsome. Intelligent. Witty. Charismatic. So sorry, wrong wedding." I shrieked and almost jumped up and kissed John for that line. "I've always admired him, mostly because I never had the courage to be a liar, a thief and a cheat."

I started laughing loudly and Sherlock handed me my inhaler so I wouldn't start coughing. "Thank you."

"Mark Twain once said, "A man is already halfway in love with any woman who listens to him". I can know for a fact that this is true. Sherlock was talking out loud the night he met Tammy, I was filling in for his skull. I'm not kidding; Sherlock will do the entire Hamlet and skull routine. Tammy was all ready listening to him before she even knew his name! Tammy, unlike most people after Sherlock's deductions, didn't curse him out. She asked to identify what color underwear she was wearing since he was such a show off. I still don't know how that end worked out." I blushed and buried my face in my hands. It was true that the past could come back to haunt us. "I tell you, it's a wonder that these two are getting married today. These two battled so much; they made Punch and Judy look like a happily married couple! In all seriousness though Sherlock, you've been a brilliant friend to me," John's voice cracked slightly and I felt tears fill my eyes. "and it's been an honor to be your best man today, and with all my heart I hope you two have a long and happy marriage! You're a lucky man. Tammy's a beautiful girl with a heart of gold, and she deserves a good husband. Thank God you married her before she found one!"

I squeezed Sherlock's hand. "But even so, just before I make the Toast, I do have a few words of wisdom for the happy couple. Sherlock, in particular, remember those 3 little words that are the key to a long and happy marriage. "You're right love!" Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Now, I ask that everyone raise your glasses and join me in a toast to Sherlock and Tammy, because I think they were made for each other." Everyone toasted us and then took their drink and John finally wrapped up his speech. "May your love be modern enough to survive the times, but old fashioned enough to last forever. I'm sure you're going to be happy together, and I speak for everybody here when I say I wish you both the very best for your future life together. Ladies and Gentlemen, the new Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, Sherlock and Tammy!" Everyone applauded. Then John held up his hands, asking for silence. "Now, Sherlock won't dance," everyone groaned in dissapointment. "and we weren't actually surprised about that. Tammy, is willing to make compromises. She pointed out one thing they have in common is their love of music. Sherlock plays the violin while Tammy sings and plays piano. They will each now perform a song that describes the connection they feel towards each other."

Sherlock got up and walked over to Angelo, who handed Sherlock his violin. Everyone applauded as he politely bowed. He made eye contact with me. "Tammy come here."

He said it in his normal, brusque way, but I knew that meant he was going to do something that was going to make him uncomfortable. "Nice way to talk to your wife, Sherlock." John suggested. "You might want to work on that."

Sherlock shot John a glare. I got up from my seat and walked up to Sherlock. I stopped walking once I took my place beside him. "You're just going to stand there."

I frowned as he began playing a beautiful melody. It sounded familiar to me, but I couldn't recognize it. Then, Sherlock began playing the chorus and I recognized it. It was 'In her eyes' and I recognized it because I heard Josh Groban sing it numerous times.

The lyrics began to shape themselves in my mind. I could hear josh Groban in my head, but Sherlock had personalized the meaning to my heart. I covered my mouth to keep from crying out in music built and swelled beautifully. Sherlock was squeezing out notes I'd never heard before. They were the right notes, but they were so, passionately beautiful that I didn't recognize them.I walked behind Sherlock as he played and just wrapped my arms around his waist in a hug. I rested my head against his shoulder as the music paused momentarily before finishing the last bars of music.

All too soon, Sherlock lowered his bow and turned so I had my face on his chest. "Thank you Sherlock. That was…beautiful."

"Pleasure."

"Your turn." Sherlock murmured.

"All right." I pulled free of his grasp, walked to the D.J and got my microphone. Sherlock frowned as the music filtered through the speakers. I walked up towards him and took his hand.

_You're a mess; you never make the bed. _I saw John nod in confirmation and almost busted out laughing. _ You don't read, you'd rather sit and sulk all day instead. _Sherlock frowned and crossed his arms. _You eat beef jerky, think crap telly is fun._

"No I don't!" He defended himself.

_Wait,_ I said placing a finger on his lips._ I've just begun. _He glowered at me. I had chosen this song for the lyrics, but when they didn't work for me I personalized a few of them. But the songwriter had written the most perfectly timed lyrics. _I'm afraid you're anything but neat. Your whole life, is thrown about for all to see. You own a chainsaw, your clothes are all the same dark purple swatch. Goodness, what a catch. _The look on Sherlock's face told me that these lyrics better change to a more complimentary phrase.

_My friends all think I'm crazy, they all tell me you're no good. _I stepped forward, running my hand down his chest. B_ut I'll be damned if you don't make me the way I didn't know I could. _His brows rose in amusement at my swearing._ "It's your grin, the devil in your eye. How you're strong one minute, the next soft and shy. Your little dimple, _I ran my finger around his mouth._ those great big clumsy feet. God, you're just so sweet. _

I climbed up onto the small step ladder that I'd requested in the middle of the floor during this number. _Logic says to run now, play it smart don't be misled. But for once I'm following my heart and not my head! So here goes, maybe I'm a chump. I'll just close my eyes and count to ten and jump! _I stood up and shot Sherlock a pointed look, which he understood. He began to advance towards me. _And pray you'll catch me, cause I've been dropped before. _And it's true. Robert had dropped me, but Sherlock had caught me and picked me up._ But I've learned that love's a gamble, there's a chance that I may fall. And though it's scary, I'm gonna risk it all. It's one big crapshoot, no signs to lead the way. I'll take it day to day._

I jumped and everyone gasped as Sherlock did catch me. He didn't let me go, he kept his hands on my waist. The heat in his eyes caused me to blush and I could barely hold his gaze. _So you're a mess, I guess that's pretty clear._ I looked into his eyes and confessed._ But my life, would really suck if you weren't here. So, call me crazy but what else can I do? I'm in love with self-addicted, always dressed up, danger addicted, sorta messed up, perfect you._

Applause filled the room as I buried my face against Sherlock's chest. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and hugged me. I felt his hand pause as he felt the zipper on the back of my dress and I shivered.

At that moment, Mycroft cleared his throat and spoke. "As much as I hate to break this up, but it is getting late and the happy couple have a small flight to make."

"What flight?" Sherlock asked without breaking eye contact with me. "We're not going anywhere."

"Your honeymoon, will take place in a large private house that I own, it's about 40 minutes away, by helicopter." Slowly, his words penetrated our heads. "You will find it complete with furnishings and appliance, it'll be all yours for two weeks."

I stared at Mycroft and Sherlock's parents in amazement. "Wow. That's quite…a honeymoon."

Sherlock wasn't happy about it though. "We weren't planning on leaving London."

"That's why we found a place within 40 minutes if you're needed." Mycroft pointed out. "The grounds include a garden, magnificent library and a heated Jacuzzi, that is really, impressive, so you won't get bored on your honeymoon."

"Speaking for Sherlock, literally," I shot him a pointed look. "thank you. And I thank you, that's a generous gift Mycroft and it's most convenient." Sherlock pinched me and I yelped out. "Sherlock!"

He kept an innocent look. "Did I step on your dress?"

"No." I turned back to Mycroft. "Thank you, we shall accept your kind offer."

Almost an hour later, Sherlock and I were in an helicopter headed to the estate. Sherlock breathed in my ear. "Forty minute wait or not, I will have you Tammy. Sooner or later. You will be mine." I nodded and with each passing second my heart beat faster and I feared I'd roused the need in Sherlock by putting him off for so long.


	28. 28: The wedding night

Chapter twenty-eight

The wedding night

"Wow."

Was the only word I could form once I saw the estate that Mycroft had lent to us for two weeks. But I guessed we'd only spend a week here, Sherlock would have to get back to London. Still a week was better than none; the original plan was for Sherlock to spend as much time as possible with me in my flat, alone. The only other people here were the kitchen staff, a butler and a few maids.

Now there were a ton of recreational facilities for us. There was a fruit orchard, an indoor and outdoor swimming pool and a tennis court. The library was impressive as Mycroft had promised and there was an art gallery of beautiful paintings. The Jacuzzi, true to Mycroft's promise was….spectacular. It was large enough for two people and it was right off the master bedroom. It had a room to itself. I really loved the rocks, the colored tile and the fake fish all around the room. It was as if the beauty of the ocean had been trapped in one room.

Sherlock leaned against the doorway, watching me, as I stood in the middle of the room, surveying it. "Beautiful." But his tone hinted that he wasn't talking about the room. "We shall have to try it out tomorrow morning."

I blushed and avoided his gaze and his comment. I moved towards him. "I need to find the nearest restroom and take my makeup off."

Sherlock's arm shot up, stopping me from leaving the room. I paused and looked up at him. Sherlock grabbed me and kissed me deeply. I was taken by surprise, as the kiss was so random and short. "Ten minutes Tammy. That's all you get."

I hesitated as he stepped aside to let me pass him. I then walked towards our bedroom. It was a beautiful room, done in shades of deep, velvet green and creamy satin. I went towards my bags and opened it. I grabbed my face wipes and a silk nightdress I'd purchased.

Sherlock's hand closed over mine from nowhere and I stopped moving. He brushed my hair back from my shoulders and undid the clasp on my mother's necklace for me. "Don't put that on." He murmured as he pressed the necklace in my shaking hand. "I want the pleasure of helping you out of that dress myself."

I don't know how I made it to that bathroom without fainting. But I did. I washed my face, careful to remove all the makeup except my lipstick. Then, my body began to become painfully aware of the stressful day I had and the definitely anticipate night that was about to begin for me.

I heard music begin playing outside in the master bedroom, relaxing piano music. I smiled; it was kind of Sherlock to put that on I could relax somewhat. I sprayed myself lightly with a new scent I'd purchased for my wedding. It wasn't Elizabeth Taylor, it was actually called 'Phantom of the opera' and it was an unusual scent. Traditional, yet modern, musky and sexy, perfect for day and night use. I nervously smoothed my wedding dress and walked outside to meet the inevitable.

I paused in the doorway when I saw Sherlock sitting on the end of the bed. He'd removed everything, except his pants, he'd taken off his belt, so his pants hung low on his waist. My heart stopped and for some reason I couldn't seem to move for a moment.

"You're standing funny." His words were conversational, but his face and body language were anything else but that. Sherlock was staring at me with burning eyes, making me feel as if he was brazenly undressing me in his mind. "Come here." I nodded and walked over to him. I stopped in front of him. "Kick your shoes off, you've been wearing them all day and frankly it's no wonder your back is killing you." I turned, bent and pulled off my shoes as I straightened; Sherlock turned my back to him. Now, at this moment I couldn't decide which unnerved me more, seeing him or not seeing him. Sherlock brushed my hair back from my shoulders and murmured. "We are married now."

I could feel Sherlock's breath on my bare shoulders as he reached out and massaged them. I couldn't refrain a moan of pleasure from leaving my mouth as the stiffness left them. "I like that."

Sherlock chuckled quietly, but didn't say anything. Then, he slowly kissed the back of my neck as he ran his hands down my arms. The whole time, his warm breath kept teasing my shoulder. My head lolled back, allowing him to press his face against my neck. I faintly registered his hands on my waist, until I felt his thumbs press right where my hips start to curve. My body moved forward but Sherlock held me in place.

Then, his hands went to the zipper on my dress. Sherlock moved slowly and pulled it all the way down. I'd decided not to wear a bra with this dress, because it was padded enough, now I was regretting that decision. I grabbed a hold of the front of my dress, holding it in place as the material collapsed around behind me.

I felt his lips on the middle of my back before he brought the knuckles of both his hands up and down my back a few times. I trembled at his touch, tonight; it was the most gentle and erotic thing I'd ever felt in my life. Then, I felt his thumbs at my lower back, massaging me firmly. He seemed to know that massaging me always completely relaxed me. He took his time, making his way up to my shoulder blades.

Sherlock, most of the time was impatient about things going his way, but tonight, he was moving slow. Taking his time and taking into account how I reacted. He eased his hands, under my arms and over my breasts. I let out a strangled cry as he touched me there. My hands were still holding my top in place as he massaged my breasts. He began placing open-mouthed kisses on my shoulder blades and I gripped his hands through the material and squeezed his hands tightly, tightening his grip on my breasts. Heat clenched my stomach and I felt my virgin resistance melt away and the desire to become his wife consumed me, body and soul. Sherlock continued trailing a path of open-mouthed kisses up my shoulder blade towards my neck.

"Sherlock." I pleaded quietly. "Please."

He didn't say anything, just moved his kisses from the side of my neck to the front of my throat. I turned my head to the side, mouth opened slightly so he could kiss me. He kissed me and a cold rush shot down my body as he ran his tongue over my lips. My right hand let go of my top and I caressed his face. I had to touch him; I needed to touch him. The moment I let my other hand drop, Sherlock made his move. He stood up. I turned in his embrace to go towards the bed, but he wouldn't let me.

For a moment I was confused, then he turned me in his arms, pressing my chest against his. I brought my right arm up and over his head to grip his shoulders. I rubbed my chest against his, loving the touch of our skin. His arms circled my shoulders and hips, dipping me backwards before lifting me up onto the bed. Then, I felt Sherlock's weight on top of me.

And what followed…well, it was too beautiful to even describe. Sherlock had been so loving and tender with me. I'm glad he was my 'Mind Reader' for he could somehow see into my mind and know what I wanted or needed. The instance he took my virginity and shared his with me, I was glad I waited for him. Our hearts bonded in that instance in a much deeper, intimate connection. I couldn't imagine loving anyone more than I loved Sherlock in that instance.

I cried a little afterwards, not because of the pain I'd felt, but tears of thanks for finding someone like him. It was almost too good to be true. As I started to fall asleep, with my arms around Sherlock's waist, my hands and face against his chest, his arms around my shoulder and our legs intertwined, I knew I'd found my gift from heaven, for I'd finally found where I belonged, with him, in his arms.


	29. 29: A four day honeymoon

Chapter twenty-nine

A four day honeymoon

I yawned to find Sherlock was sitting up in bed, my head was in his lap, and his hand was in my hair. I bolted upright, jostling the cup of tea he had in his hand and sloshing it all over him.

Sherlock let out a shout as the hot tea doused him. I stared at him as he shook his hands. He looked at me, instead of annoyance in his eyes, I saw amusement. "Was I that bad last night Mrs. Holmes?"

I blushed and brushed the hair back from my eyes. "No. I-I'm sorry."

He leaned forward and kissed me. "It was an accident." He jumped out of bed, he was all ready dressed in his pajamas. I frowned and he spoke on cue, reading my mind. "I got dressed to get a cup of tea, while I waited for you to wake up. Now, I'll have them send breakfast up."

"Thank you." I got out of bed and looked down for my slippers to realize that I was still completely naked.

I let out a yelp and yanked the covers back over me, looking frantically for my robe. Sherlock chuckled as he approached me with my robe. I blushed and tried not to look to embarrassed at being in his presence like this. He handed me my robe and I scrambled into it.

"You might feel a little sore after last," he explained to me as the heat filled my cheeks. "but it'll pass."

"Thank you." I bit out.

he kissed me. "Don't be so embarrassed Tammy. Your body is now mine as mine is yours."

I nodded. "Well, nothing embarrasses you."

"Good." He turned and walked off. "I should be back within five minutes. I'll meet you in the Jacuzzi."

"Sherlock!"

"What," he laughed. "I said I'd meet you there last night. Remember? Mycroft has an assortment of suits in there. I left out all the one piece suits for you to pick, but don't be surprised that there's only three for you to pick from."

he closed the door on me and I mumbled. "I can't believe this."

I walked to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. I had some dried blood on my thighs and I wasn't sore. I went into the next room and looked at the suits. Goodness! Didn't Mycroft know I was conservative? Honestly. Only one covered me up completely, but the neckline was very low. It was a plain white suit and I hoped it wouldn't go transparent when I got wet. I opened up the drawers, looking for the suits to return the other two to their proper place. Then, I saw the bikinis and hesitated. I'd never worn one before and I wasn't planning on wearing one in the future. Still, some of them were rather pretty looking.

Then, I remembered Sherlock pulling out the one piece suits for me, he was expecting me to put them on. The bikinis had never even entered his mind. I smirked, wondering how he'd react to me being in one.

I shoved the white suit aside and pulled out a turquoise bikini with a gold fringe. It felt awkward, when I was so used to wearing the one-piece suit. Still, I don't think there was anything wrong with it as long as I was with my husband.

I sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi, it was on and bubbling lightly. I then looked for two towels for us and after locating them, I put them on the edge of the Jacuzzi. I observed a small folding table and opened it, placing it nearby so Sherlock could put the breakfast tray on it.

I sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi just as the door opened. I spun around as Sherlock came in. "Ok, I made sure they did your cocoa right," then he saw me and his eyes widened in surprised and the tray tilted precariously in his grasp. "God!"

I jumped up and examined the damaged done to the breakfast tray. "Careful."

"You're wearing a bikini."

"Thank goodness you didn't spill something." I continued as if I hadn't heard him all. I took it from him and placed it on the tray. "I am absolutely starving."

"You're wearing a bikini."

"The needle has gotten stuck in a crack." I laughed. "I wasn't planning to put it on. But then I decided to catch you off guard. Besides, as long as I wear it simply for my husband, what's the harm in that?" He pulled off his robe to reveal he was wearing a pair of dark black swimming trunks. "You should have seen the look on your face!"

"You should see what's going on in my mind." He said as he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around me.

I kissed him and blushed slightly. "Tell me about it later. I am starving."

I turned my back to him and got into the Jacuzzi. "Who can think of food at a time like this?" he sulked and I laughed at him.

"I can." I said as I reached for my cocoa, blowing on it before sipping it. "Hmm, delicious."

He got into the Jacuzzi and settled into the water beside me. "Do you have…any idea…how sexy you look right now?"

I froze in place. "No."

My female intuition told me to put my cocoa back on the tray and I did. Good thing too, for Sherlock pulled me under him and I was forced to grab onto a rock for support. "You are….deliberately, the most sexy woman on the face of this earth." I blushed and his eyes narrowed. "Please tell me I'm the first man to call you sexy as well?" I nodded. "Good."

He pulled me under the water and I barely had time to catch a breath before I was fully submerged. I impulsively wrapped my legs around his waist as we broke the surface together. Sherlock kissed me, it was a wet, anxious kiss and it sent my pulse skyrocketing again. "Can I have you?" he asked against my lips, sending droplets of water across my face. "I must have you again."

I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck. "I'm yours to have…as long as you want me."

"Don't say things like that, I might never let you out of here."

* * *

The next few days were simply wonderful. Sherlock and I went for picnics in the woods and I came out looking as if I'd been thoroughly shagged and I had been. But we didn't do just that, Sherlock surprised me by getting two horses ready from the stables. I knew how to ride; it had been many years. Sherlock didn't, but he caught on instantly and we spent a morning galloping around the hills. We played tennis and he beat me. We swam and he beat me. I played checkers and he beat me. Good thing I didn't mind loosing games that much.

I loved the nights most of all. Sherlock would start a fire our bedroom, he'd dim the lights, I'd sit in his lap and he'd read to me. He had the most…hypnotic voice; it was simply magnificent to listen to. I could listen to him read to me for hours and never get bored. Sherlock let his guard down around me and I was glad that he allowed me to see the other side of him, the side that he never let others see.

Then, a phone call came through. We'd only been gone four days, but I wasn't surprised when I passed the Library and heard Sherlock talking to Lestrade. I knew exactly what was coming. I could hear Sherlock attempting to protest, but the case had his interest. He told Lestrade he couldn't make any promises. I went upstairs and began packing my bag. I sat on the bed and waited for him to enter. The moment he did, I held up my hand stopping him from speaking out. "Don't say it, I never unpacked my bag, all I have to is zipper it up." I stood up and started picking up Sherlock's clothes. "Come on, I'll help you pack up. So, what does this case entail?"

"At the moment, I'm looking at my case." I frowned as he looked at me, standing there with all of his shirts in my arms. "You're not mad at me? I thought you'd be."

"Now why on earth would I be mad?"

"We _are _on our honeymoon."

"I knew exactly what I was getting when I married you and I'm actually crazy enough to like being around you when we're on a case." I then noticed a funny odor coming from his clothes. "What's on your clothes?" I inhaled and noticed it was cigarette smoke. "Since when did you start smoking?"

He shrugged. "Since the Adler case."

My mouth fell open in surprise. "And I've only now just noticed?"

He smirked. "I was waiting for you to catch on."

"Where are the cigarettes?"

"Actually, I went through my one pack."

"Don't believe you." I started searching through his clothes in his bag. "You _never _buy things by ones, you always buy them by two's. I will find them, now hand them over. Cigarettes are bad from brain work." He reached into his pocket and held them out to me. I smiled. "Thank you."

I pulled them out of the carton and sashayed to the bathroom. I dropped them in the toilet and flushed it. "Tammy," he said directly behind me. "I'm not sure that's good for the plumbing."

"I don't care about the plumbing," I said as I faced him. "I'm more concerned about your brain. Now," I draped my arms around his neck. "no more smoking again. Promise me?"

"Now Tammy, a little smoke now and then-

"Promise me!" I added firmly. When he hesitated, I bucked my hips against him and his eyes widened. "Promise."

"Fine! I promise."

"Good." I avoided his kiss and moved out of his embrace and went back to the bedroom. "Now let's go, you've got a case to solve."

Sherlock growled in aggravation. "You little seductress."

"Now, what's the case about?" I asked. "And keep your hands off me until we're in the helicopter."

"Fine." I pulled out my phone and began texting John. "Who are you texting."

"I'm telling John to expect us." That's partly true. I also told him that Sherlock had been smoking and to check his flat for cigarettes. "You were saying about the case?"

"Well, apparently," he stated. "there's been a murder with a harpoon."

I stared at him. "You're kidding."

"No. And evidentially, the harpoon went through the man's body and imbedded itself into the wall behind the man."

"Is that even possible?" I asked.

Sherlock nodded. "I believe so."

"Are you sure?"

* * *

**Charli: My congrats and condolences on today being this last day of school for you. Rumpleteazer is with Mrs. Hudson. **


	30. 30: Sherlock needs a case

Chapter thirty

Sherlock needs a case

I awoke the next morning to find that Sherlock had gone on a case, letting me sleep in again. I got up and dressed and decided to visit Mrs. Hudson. I couldn't find her, but I found Rumpleteazer asleep on Mrs. Hudson's couch, so I left her there. I decided to go to Sherlock's flat and see if he was there. He wasn't, but John was down there, reading a newspaper.

He smiled. "Hello Tammy." He stood up and hugged me. "How was the honeymoon?"

I smiled. "Wonderful."

"Even if it was cut short?"

"Well, I did marry a detective. I'm hungry and I'm going to raid the refrigerator, if you don't mind."

"Help yourself." I opened the refrigerator to find it still clean. "And if I haven't said it, thank you for that other refrigerator. It's so nice not to find body parts in with the food."

"Agreed." I grabbed two eggs and pulled out the bacon. Cereal would have been healthier, but I was hungry.

The door opened and I heard Sherlock's voice. "Well that was tedious."

"You went on the tube like that?" John was staring at Sherlock in amazement.

"None of the cabs would take me." He sounded positively livid.

I rounded the corner. "Now why on earth wouldn't," then I saw Sherlock. He was covered in blood from head to toe. "Sherlock!" I dropped the eggs. "What happened?!"

"I told you it was possible to harpoon someone."

"You harpooned someone!?"

"A dead pig." He stated as he brushed by me. "I'll be in the shower."

"I should hope so!" I turned back to the mess I made and groaned. "Great." I began cleaning up the eggs, muttering to myself and cursing my luck. "I can't believe this."

"Tammy!" Sherlock called from within the bathroom. "Come in here for a minute."

I exhaled in disbelief as John peered up from his newspaper. "I know I shouldn't be surprised, but he manages to get me every once in a while. Doesn't he know about propriety? And I can just imagine what he's got going on in that mind of his."

"This is Sherlock we're talking about." John cleared his throat. "Shall I come back in an hour or something."

"No. It's fine."

"Tammy!" he shouted. "Don't make me go out there and get you!"

I groaned. "On second thought, just keep your ears plugged."

John nodded. "Right."

An hour later, I still wasn't sure that I didn't have a faint smell of blood about me. First, he wanted me to tell him if he'd gotten all the blood off his body and I nodded. Then, he said he forgot his clothes, so I got a set. He didn't want to wear the jeans and sent me to get the slacks. I came in and got he was waiting behind the door for me to enter the room.

Dear John, he acted as if nothing were going on between us. He hid behind his newspaper, though I knew that I he knew everything that had been going on behind that bathroom door. I took my book, a modern retelling of 'Pride and Prejudice' by Debra White Smith and settled on the couch. Sherlock was fine for a while, then he began to grow impatient. He began pacing around the room with his harpoon in hand, I watched him out of the corner of my eye.

"Nothing?" he asked John who was looking through his newspaper.

"Uhmm, military coup in Uganda." Sherlock wasn't interested. "Another photo of you in the," Sherlock groaned and I laughed. Sherlock had gotten caught during a case wearing a deerstalker hat and he _hated _it. "cabinet military reshuffle."

"Nothing of importance!" Sherlock slammed the end of his harpoon on the ground and shouted. "Oh! God!" he turned to John and snapped at him. "John, I need some. Get me some."

John didn't even blink. "No."

"Get me some."

"Sorry, can't help you."

"No. Cold turkey, we agreed." He said pointing a finger at Sherlock. "And you promised Tammy. Anyway, you paid everyone off remember? Nobody in a two mile radius will sell you anything."

"Stupid idea." He growled. "Whose idea was that?"

"Yours," I said gently. "and I ensured that it would happen."

Sherlock glowered at me and shouted. "Mrs. Hudson!"

Then, he began searching his desk frantically. I bit my lip and tried not to cave into surrendering him the cigarettes I'd asked John to hide under Sherlock's skull. He began throwing the papers all around the room.

I sighed and put my book down and began picking up the papers. "Look, Sherlock," John said patiently. "you're doing really well. Don't give up now! And you're making a mess for Tammy."

"Tell me where they are!" Sherlock's voice grew frantic. "Please! Tell me!"

He backed up and tripped over me. He let out a grunt as he fell down on his back. "Are you all right?" I asked.

"Are you?" I nodded. "Good." He turned back to John. "Please."

John shook his head. "Sorry, can't help."

Sherlock tried a new tact. "I'll let you know next week's lottery numbers." John rolled his eyes. "Well it was worth a try."

"Look Sherlock," I said. "I hid your cigarettes."

His eyes lit up and he got down on my level. "You hid them?" I nodded. Sherlock's eyes flashed and he pinned me down on the ground and towered over me. "Where are they?"

"I'm not telling you." I stated. "Now get off me, John's here."

"It's just John."

"Sherlock."

"Tell me where they are," he threatened. "and I'll let you up."

"No!"

"Fine. I'll have to do this the hard way."

Sherlock kissed me and I let out a squeal of surprise as he worked his mouth against mine. I pushed on his chest and shook my head, but I couldn't dislodge his insistent mouth from mine. I sat up and tried backing away from him, but I wound up whacking my back into the wall. I pushed on his chest and was somehow able to break away from him. I crawled towards John's chair with Sherlock behind me. Sherlock grabbed my shoe and I squealed and grabbed onto John's chair.

"John!" I shrieked. John looked completely embarrassed, but he pulled me up from the ground and I sat on the arm of his chair. "Thank you!" Sherlock jumped up and went towards me. I held my hands out. "You stay away from me!" I pressed my hand against my heart. "I mean it, you keep your hands off me!"

Sherlock glowered at me. "You just wait a minute. I will get it out of you."

"Oh Christ." John said. "I can't believe I'm hearing this."

"Yoo hoo." Mrs. Hudson came in the room just as Sherlock went to the floor and began looking through the items in front of the fireplace.

"My secret supply!" Sherlock said. "What did Tammy do with my secret supply?"

"What?"

"Cigarettes. Where are they?"

"You know you never let me touch your things." She stated. "And Tammy's right here."

"I'm not talking to him Mrs. Hudson."

Sherlock jumped up and glowered at her. "I thought you weren't my housekeeper."

"I'm not." She stated firmly. Sherlock let out a groan and stomped over towards his harpoon. John made a drinking motion to Mrs. Hudson. "How about a nice cup of tea? And perhaps you can put away your harpoon."

Sherlock spun around. "I need something stronger than tea. Seven percent stronger!" suddenly, Sherlock focused in on Mrs. Hudson and he pointed his harpoon at her. "I see you've been seeing Mr. Chaterjee again."

"Pardon?"

"Sandwich shop. That's a new dress, but there's flour on the sleeve. You wouldn't dress like that for baking."

"Sherlock." John and I warned him in total unison.

"Thumbnail, tiny traces of foil. Been at the scratch cards again. We all know where that leads don't we?" He inhaled. "Hmm, Casaba Nights, pretty racy for first thing a Monday morning. Wouldn't you agree? Tammy has been quite useful to the Elizabeth Taylor perfume line, it's really been selling well, thanks to John's blog. I've written a little blog about the identification of perfumes. It's on the website you should look it up."

"Please." Mrs. Hudson said.

But Sherlock wouldn't shut up. "And I wouldn't pin your hopes on that cruiser Mr. Chaterjee. He's got a wife in Doncaster that nobody knows about!"

"Sherlock!" I shouted as I jumped off the arm of John's chair.

"Well nobody except me." He said throwing his hands in the air.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Mrs. Hudson said and I heard the tears in her voice. "I really don't."

She turned and hurried out of the room. "Mrs. Hudson!" I called after her, but she just kept going. Sherlock vaulted onto his chair in his 'monkey' position again.

"What the bloody hell was all that about?" John asked as he slammed his newspaper down.

"You don't understand." Sherlock rocked on his heels.

"Go after her and apologize."

"Apologize?" Sherlock looked as if John had asked him to jump off the moon onto earth. "Oh, John, I envy you so much."

I frowned, there had to be a punch line coming. John frowned, waiting for it as well. "You envy me?"

"Your mind, it's so placid, straight-forward, barely used. Mine's like an engine, racing out of control. A rocket, tearing itself to pieces, trapped on the launch pad." Sherlock shouted. "I need a case!

"You've just solved one," John shouted back at him. "by harpooning a dead pig, apparently!"

"Oh, that was this morning." Sherlock's feet shot out from under him and he slammed himself down in his chair. He then began to impatiently drum his fingers on the armrest. "When's the next one?"

John frowned. "Nothing on the website?"

Sherlock picked up John's laptop and deposited it in John's lap. "Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes," he said in a childish voice. "I can't find Bluebell anywhere. Please, please, please can you help?" I almost burst out laughing as Sherlock walked and bobbed his head in time each time he said please.

John spoke cautiously "Bluebell?"

"A rabbit, John!" He snapped angrily. "Ah, wait, but there's more! Before it disappeared, it turned luminous, "like a fairy," Sherlock's voice went high. "according to little Kirsty." At this point John and I were both sure that Sherlock had temporarily lost his mind. "Then the next morning, Bluebell was gone! Hutch still locked, no sign of a forced entry." He stopped and for a moment I thought he'd realized that he'd missed something. "What am I saying? This is brilliant! Phone Lestrade; tell him there's an escaped rabbit. "

John stared at him. "You're serious?"

"It's either this," Sherlock threatened. "or Cluedo."

"Oh no." John closed the laptop with a snap and stood up. "we are never playing that again."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not actually possible for the victim to have done it, Sherlock, that's why!"

"Well, it was the only possible explanation."

"It's not in the rules!"

"Well then, the rules are wrong!"

"I've had enough of this!" I shouted. "Sherlock! Go apologize to Mrs. Hudson this instance."

"Why?"

"Because I am _telling _you to!" he stared at me. "Ordinarily, I would ask, but I am demanding. You hurt her and you, since you've married me, should be more sensitive when speaking in that area!"

"What area?"

I groaned. "For Heaven's sake Sherlock, you and I are going to have each other for the next 50 years! Who is she going to have or find at her age?" understanding flashed in his eyes. "It's harder to find someone at that age and you could have told her that Mr. Chaterjee was married in a nicer manner than the way you taunted her and all because you were mad that I wouldn't give you your bloody cigarettes!"

Sherlock nodded and walked towards me. "All right." He kissed my cheek. "I'll be back in a moment."

He turned and walked away; I placed a hand on his shoulder and hugged him from behind. "I love you." Sherlock didn't respond, except to squeeze my hands for a moment before continuing on his mission.

Once he was out of earshot, I turned back to John who was watching me. "Does he ever say he loves you?"

I shrugged. "He told me twice John. Once, before he proposed and that was when I really needed to hear it. The second, in his wedding vows and he says he'll only say it to me once more."

He frowned. "And when will that be?"

"When either of us is on our deathbed. Sherlock says that 'I love you' is spoken too often and it should be spoken during the important parts of one's life. But I did ask him to say it to me once a year on our wedding anniversary. He promised he would take it into consideration."

"Why say it so few times?" John asked.

"Most of the time, people say that they love you but rarely show it. He wants to show me instead of telling me and I am completly happy with the way things are John."


	31. 31: Mr Henry Knight

Chapter thirty-one

Mr. Henry Knight

I heard the doorbell ring about ten minutes later. I'd gone upstairs and began putting away my clothes. I smiled as I carefully placed my wedding dress inside of the hope chest that Mrs. Hudson had given me. I then came downstairs to return her shoes to her and I found her gone. I climbed up the stairs and heard Sherlock talking to a client.

"Yes, good." He sounded bored to death. "Skipping to the night that your dad was violently killed." I bit my lip, he really needed to be more delicate and tactful when speaking to people, especially when they'd lost a loved one. "Where did that happen?"

"There's a place, it's a sort of local landmark called Dewar's Hollow." He paused for dramatic effect. "That's an ancient name for the devil."

Sherlock still didn't sound interested. "So?"

Thank goodness John spoke up. "Did you see the devil that night?"

"Yes." The man's voice sounded haunted. "It was huge. Coal black fur with red eyes. It got him. Tore at him, tore him apart. I can't remember anything else." The anguish in his voice caused me to feel indescribable sadness for him. "They found the next morning just wandering on the moor. My dad's body was never found."

"Tammy," Sherlock said. "get in here and stop listening in."

I walked into the room and tried not to look embarrassed. Their client was a young man, with a troubled expression in his eyes. He had an almost guilty, out of this world expression. There was no doubt in my mind that the memory of his father's death had caused him to suffer all his life. He turned around and watched me walk in the room. I smiled kindly at him. "Sorry. I-I it just sounded interesting." I explained as I held out my hand. "My name is Tammy."

"Henry Knight." He stuttered slightly. "Pleased to meet you."

Sherlock spoke. "Tammy, do sit down."

"Fine."

Henry got up from his chair. "Here."

"Oh no thank you." I said as I moved towards Sherlock and sat on the arm of his chair. I needed to be in a good position to poke him if he misbehaved. "I'm fine right here."

John spoke up. "So, red eyes, cold black fur. Enormous... dog? Wolf?

Sherlock hissed. "Or a genetic experiment."

I poked him in the shoulder. "Are you laughing at me, Mr. Holmes?" henry asked.

Sherlock still appeared completely disinterested. "Why, are you joking?"

"Sherlock." I said. "Be kind."

Henry spoke to Sherlock. "My dad was always going on about the things they were doing at Baskerville. About the type of monsters they were breeding there. People used to laugh at him. At least the TV people took me seriously.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I assume it did wonders for Devon tourism."

"Sherlock, stop it." I said. "I will not ask you again."

"Henry," John said gently. "whatever did happen to your father, it was twenty years ago. Why come to us now?"

Henry was all ready offended by Sherlock's remarks. "I'm not sure you can help me, Mr. Holmes, because you find it all so funny."

He spat the last word out and he jumped out of his chair. "Henry," I said as I got up and moved towards him. "wait a minute please." He paused and I stood directly in front of him. "Sherlock can be a rude man at times and I apologize. Now, he is usually nicer than this," I shot Sherlock a glare. "but he's suffering from cigarette withdrawal and he's being very cranky. So please," I laid a hand on his arm and nudged him in the direction of his chair again. "sit down, and tell us why you came to us?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Because of what happened last night."

"Why?" John asked. "What happened last night?"

Now, Sherlock had everyone's attention, including henry's right where he wanted it. On him. Henry frowned. "How did you know?"

"I didn't know, I noticed. Tammy, sit back down." Sherlock launched into his monologue mode. "You came up from Devon on the first available train this morning. You had a disappointing breakfast and a cup of black coffee. The girl across the aisle fancied you, although you were initially keen, you've now changed your mind. You are now extremely anxious to have your first cigarette of the day. So do sit down Mr. knight, and please smoke, I'd be delighted." He patted the arm of his chair. "I said sit down."

"I'm not your dog." But I sat down on the arm of his chair anyway.

Henry moved back towards his chair, looking stunned by Sherlock's observation. "How on Earth did you notice all that?"

"It's not important." John said.

But Sherlock began deducing. "Punched out holes where your ticket's been changed-

John interrupted. "Not now, Sherlock."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Oh please. I've been cooped up here for ages."

"You're just showing off."

"Of course. I am a show-off," he sounded a little agitated, as if he were upset that john didn't remember. "that's what we do."

"Thank you for at least admitting it." I murmured. "Prepare to be amazed Henry Knight."

"Train napkin, used to mom up the spilled coffee. Strength of the coffee stain shows that you didn't take milk. There are traces of ketchup on it around your mouth and on your sleeve. Cooked breakfast, the nearest thing those trains could manage, probably a sandwich.

"How did you know it was," henry sounded completely surprised. "disappointing?"

"Is there any other type of breakfast on a train?" I fought back the smirk. "The girl, female handwriting is quite distinctive. Wrote her phone number down on the napkin, I could tell from the angle she sat at, that she was sat across from you on the other side of the aisle. Later, after she got off, I can imagine you used the napkin to mop up your spilled coffee, accidentally smudging the numbers. You've been over the last four digits yourself in another pen. You wanted to keep the number, just now you used the napkin to blow your nose. Maybe you're not that into her after all." I couldn't keep the look of pride or the smile off my stain at this point. When Sherlock got a case after being bored, he was on fire! "Then there's the nicotine stain on your fingers, your shaking fingers, I know the signs. No chance to smoke one on the train, no time to roll one before you got a cab here. It's just after 9:15. You're desperate. The first train from Exeter to London leaves at 5:46 AM, but you got the first one possible so something important must have happened last night? Am I wrong?"

Henry's mouth was hanging open in amazement. He drew in a ragged breath. "No. You're right. You're completely exactly right. Bloody hell, I heard you were quick."

"It's my job." He leaned forward and demanded. "Now shut up and smoke!

I groaned and rubbed my forehead. Henry did as Sherlock asked and I turned to John. He nodded and began speaking. "Henry your parents both died and you were what, seven years old?"

Sherlock had been watching henry's every move as he pulled out a cigarette, lit it and began to smoke it. Henry exhaled, filling the flat with smoke. "I know that must-

His voice petered out as Sherlock got out of his chair, leaned forward, close to henry's face and inhaled the smoke. My mouth dropped open. _He didn't just do that! _Poor henry could only stare at Sherlock, who let out a small moan of contentment. John was somehow able to get his mouth working. "That, that must be quite a trauma. Did you ever think that you imagined this story," Sherlock leaned forward and sniffed in henry's cigarette smoke deeply again. I covered my face. _Oh, I'm going to die of embarrassment! _John and henry both tried to act as if Sherlock weren't there. "to account for it."

"That's what…Dr. Mortimer says.

"Who?"

"His therapist." Sherlock, henry and I said at the same time.

Sherlock smirked at me. "You're catching on. I may make you into a proper Holmes yet."

"Louise Mortimer," Henry explained. "she's the reason I came back to Dartmoor. She thinks I have to face my demons."

"What happened when you went back to Dewar's Hollow last night henry? You went on the advice of a therapist and now you're consulting a detective. What did you see that changed everything?"

It's a strange place, the Hollow. Makes you feel so cold inside, so afraid.

Yes, if I wanted poetry I'd read John's emails to his girlfriends. Much funnier."

"Sherlock!" I said elbowing him. "You shouldn't!"

He ignored me. "What did you see?"

"Footprint. On the exact spot where I saw my father torn apart."

Sherlock rolled back into his chair, disappointed. "Man's or woman's?" John asked.

"Neither," henry said, catching my attention. "they were-

"Is that it?" Sherlock was disappointed; he'd been expecting something else. "Nothing else? Footprints? Is that all?"

"Yes," henry tried to explain. "but they were-

"No sorry, dr. Mortimer wins. Childhood trauma massed by and invented memory. Boring! Goodbye, Mr. Knight. Thank you for smoking."

"No, but what about the footprints?"

"Yeah!" I said."

"Oh, they're probably paw prints. Could be anything left or nothing." Sherlock shook his hands as if he were shooing a pesky fly off his shoulder. "Off to Devon with you and have a cream tea on me."

He stood up and walked towards the kitchen, buttoning up his coat. "Sherlock!" I called after him.

"Mr. Holmes," henry called. "they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!

Sherlock stopped so suddenly that I crashed into him. I steeped away as Sherlock turned slowly to face henry. "Say that again."

"I found the footprints they were big-

"No, no, no, your exact words." He said firmly. "Repeat your exact words from a moment ago, exactly as you said them."

"Mr. Holmes," he said slowly. "they were the footprints of a gigantic…. hound."

Sherlock drew himself up a little taller. I knew in that instance that Henry had captured Sherlock's interest. "I'll take the case."

John, as always, was surprised. "Sorry, what?"

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention." Sherlock had his hands folded, as if in prayer, under his chin. He was all ready working on the case. "It's very promising."

"No, no, no. Sorry, what?" John asked. "A minute ago footprints were boring, and now they're very promising?

"It has nothing to do with the footprints." He said. "As ever, John, you weren't listening. Baskerville ever heard of it?

"Vaguely, it's very hush-hush."

"Sounds like a very good place to start."

Henry was stunned. "You'll come down then?"

"No, I can't leave London at the moment. Far too busy." I exhaled and crossed my arms over my chest. Sherlock was being rather mysterious and stubborn today. "But don't worry. I'm putting my best man onto it." he patted John on his shoulder. "Always rely on John to send me all the relevant data as he never understands a word of it himself."

"What are you talking about, you're busy?" John sounded rather indignant. "You don't have a case. A minute ago you were complaining-

"Bluebell, John! I've got Bluebell." Sherlock said. "The case of the vanishing glow-in-the-dark rabbit. NATO's in uproar."

"Oh, sorry." Henry said. "You're not coming then?"

Sherlock shook his head sadly. John must have realized what Sherlock's problem was for he stood up. "Okay. Okay."

He then moved towards the mantelpiece. "John," I threatened. "don't you dare!"

"Sorry Tammy." John grabbed the cigarette from under the skull.

"Now I've got to find a new hiding place." Sherlock caught the cigarettes when John tossed them at him. "If you keep those I'll never let you kiss me again!"

Sherlock wasn't interested in them for he immediately threw up in the air. "Don't need those anymore, I'm going to Dartmoor. You go on ahead, Henry. We'll follow later."

Henry was now totally confused. "Sorry, so you are coming?"

Sherlock was now completely high. "Twenty year old disappearance? A monstrous hound? I wouldn't miss this for the world!" he turned to walk away and called over his shoulder. "Train reservations for 2 John."

"Three." I corrected as I turned to go get my bag packed."

Sherlock stopped and spun around on his heel. "You're not going."

"Oh yes I am."

He crossed his arms. "No, you're not! It'll be cold, dangerous and I don't want you there!"

"I don't care. I can handle the cold and I'll be find as long as I'm near you!"

"Sweetly romantic Tammy, but illogical." He shouted at me. "You're not going and that's final!"

"Call me sentimental," I snapped at him. "but we've only been married approximately 5 days and I really don't want to wake up again without you beside me for a few days!"

I knew in that moment I'd won, I saw his eyes soften. I waited patiently as he thought it through. Then, he gave me the sign I'd been waiting for. He nodded. "All right. But make sure you dress warmly."

I hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Thank you darling!"

"Darling?" it sounded a little awkward tripping off his tongue.

"Sorry," I looked into his eyes. "I won't call you that again."

"It's….fine," he murmured slowly. "as long as it comes out of your mouth." He kissed me and I purred contentedly. He broke the kiss. "Enough of that. Get packing!"

I saluted. "As you wish Mr. Holmes!"

"Move it Riddler," he turned and walked back into his flat. "and see if you can find a pair of pants in your wardrobe ensemble."

"I hate pants and you know that!"

"It's going to be really cold." He said. "I won't have you coughing incessantly."

"Excuse me for breathing." I retorted.

"It's your breathing that causes you to start coughing." He pointed out. "Remember?"

"Obviously, I already know the information you disclosed to me. But we don't have time for me to buy a pair of pants, there's bound to be a store in…wherever we're going and I'll get a pair of pants there! Now, stop chewing the fat and the get the lead out of! Bet you a pound that I can pack my suitcase up before you."

His eyes lit up. "You're on!"

"And bring a pair of jeans!" I called as I raced up the stairs.

"Fine!" He called and I peered behind me to see he was still watching me. "But I won't be wearing them!"

"We'll see."


	32. 32: Mrs Holmes

Chapter thirty-two

Mrs. Holmes

Sherlock won, but that was because he hadn't unpacked his suitcase from last night. I couldn't believe it! But he gave me the money back and said he'd collect the fee from me later tonight.

It wasn't a long train ride, but I hated riding on trains. Sherlock was lost in thought the whole time. John realized I was somewhat bored, so we went into the dining table and played a bunch of odd little games on his phone. John almost persuaded me to buy a new phone, but I soon realized that it wouldn't be sensible, as I didn't have time to play games.

Once our train trip ended, we piled into a cab and checked into the Cross Keys Pub. John and I got the rooms while Sherlock began investing. John and I actually got mistaken for a married couple, which embarrassed the heck out of us.

Then we went out to find that Sherlock had told some young man named Fletcher that he'd 'bet' John 50 quid that Fletcher didn't have any proof that there was an actual hound. But after Sherlock egging him on, he was able to supply enough proof that forced Sherlock to hand over the 50 quid. Then, we all piled into a black Land Rover, heading out towards Baskerville.

My poor body was so tired that I fell asleep in the back. I'd flown back to London the night before, got on a train this morning and now I was taking a car ride! And during that time I'd packed and unpacked at least twice! I woke, to hear the sounds of a loud, blaring alarm going off.

The door flew open and a man with a huge rifle shouted. "Get out of the car! Now!"

"All right!" I stumbled out of the car and fell flat on my face.

"Get up!"

"All right!" I said as I hauled myself up. He grabbed a hold of my arm and gave me a shove forward. "Take it easy!" I said. "I haven't done anything!"

"Be quiet!"

"Tammy?" I looked up to see the last face I'd expected to see. Robert's! "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" I stared at Robert. "What are you doing here?" I shouted at him. At that moment the sirens stopped blaring and I lowered my voice. "Sorry."

He turned to the soldier. "I've got this. It's all right." The soldier shot me a dirty look and walked away. I brushed off my clothes. Robert reached out and brushed off my sleeves. "Sorry about that, we obviously had some intruders."

_Sherlock_. I thought to myself. "I was sleeping."

"I can tell." He looked me up and down, my flesh crawled under his gaze. True, my flesh crawled when Sherlock looked at me, but this was different. Sherlock was my husband, Robert was not and no man had any right to look at me in that manner anymore. "You look different."

"How?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. Your face, I don't know, you just look like you're…glowing."

"Thanks for the compliment, but what are you doing here?" I repeated. "I thought that you were back in the States!"

"I got a job here, with Dr. Franklyn. After my aunt's death, I couldn't go back to the states. I figured I'd give you a few months and then try again." He said. "What are you doing here? This is a military base!"

"So I figured!" I crossed my arms. "I'm here on business."

"Like what?"

"That doesn't concern you," I looked up to see Sherlock and John approaching us. I exhaled in relief.

"Sherlock Holmes," I said. "what did you do?"

"I'll explain it in the car." He stated. He glanced at Robert with disdain. "What are _you _doing here?"

"I work here!" Robert said. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm on a case." Sherlock looked towards me. "What are _you _doing talking to him? You were supposed to be asleep in the car! I told them not to disturb you!"

"There was a super loud red alert alarm off and that evidentially _you _set off and woke me up!" I said. "Besides, some soldier pulled me out of the car, started pushing me around and Robert got him to stop pushing me around."

Sherlock walked towards me, his eyes scanning me. "You ok?"

I nodded. "I'm fine." He reached for my hands, running his long fingers over my scraped palms. As his eyes narrowed, I assured him. "I'm fine." He pressed a kiss to my palm and I smiled. "I'm fine, honest."

"So," Robert asked. "you two are still….dating?"

Sherlock held up my hand. "Actually, we got decided to get married."

The look on Robert's face told me that there was a fight coming and I was right. "Don't even think about it!"

Robert swung at Sherlock, which he sidestepped easily. Robert spun around and ran right into Sherlock's fist. Robert let out a shout as Sherlock punched him three more times. Sherlock smoothed his coat back into place. "He's been asking for that." I yawned and he frowned. "I just decked your ex and you're yawning?"

I smirked and stretched up on tiptoe. "Sorry." I kissed him, biting his lip lightly. "You decked him very nicely."

John had pulled Robert up from the ground and he looked slightly dazed. "Why?" Robert demanded. "Why Tammy?"

Sherlock groaned. "I thought it was obvious, maybe it hasn't penetrated your funny little brain."

I covered Sherlock's mouth. "I just happen to be in love him."

Sherlock uncovered my mouth. "Look, you cheated on her, threw her away, and then I got her. So, do everyone a favor, get over it and start looking for someone else instead of popping up in our lives like bad food."

'Thank you for that lovely picture Sherlock." I said. "Very eloquent. But I can handle this. Robert."

"Is this what you want?" he asked firmly. "Is he what you really want?"

I nodded. "Yes, I'm happy, I love him. Robert, I'm sorry, but everything got spoiled for us when you cheated on me. But, as heartless as it seems of me, I must thank you for cheating on me."

He tilted his head. "Why?"

"Because, if you hadn't cheated on me, I wouldn't have flown out here, met Sherlock, fallen in love, married him and be exposed to a life of danger for the rest of my life."

Sherlock elbowed me. "I told you to stay home."

"And I said since we just got married last week, I wasn't leaving you." I turned back to Robert and walked towards him. "Now, I am sorry that things didn't work out, but things happen for a reason. I would have been happy to hate you, but now, I can say thank you, for everything." I hugged him. "I wish you the very best and I hope you find the happiness that I found."

Robert hugged me and nodded. "All right. Be happy Tammy."

"Thank you Robert."

"Right," Sherlock said taking my arm and guiding me back to the Land Rover. "time to go. We'll have to talk later."

"Charming Sherlock."

"So?" John asked. "What was all that about the rabbit?"

I frowned. "The rabbit again?"

"Yeah. Oh." John groaned. "Can we not do this this time?

"Do what?" Sherlock asked and I looked at him to see that he'd turned his coat collar up.

"You being all mysterious with your cheekbones and turning your coat collar up so you look cool."

Sherlock looked indignant. "I don't do that."

"Yeah, you do."

"You're doing it this minute.' I said as I hopped into the back seat. "Like the look though."

"Thank you."

Sherlock got in and we were back on the road. For a few minutes, there was silence, allowing Sherlock time to digest whatever he'd learned that day.

"So the email from Kirstie," John asked, breaking the silence. "the missing luminous rabbit."

"Kirstie Stapleton," Sherlock said. "whose mother specializes in genetic manipulation?"

John nodded. "She made her daughter's rabbit glow in the dark."

"Probably a fluorescent gene. removed and spliced into the specimen. Simple enough these days."

"Lovely thought." I said sarcastically.

"So," Sherlock continued speaking as if he hadn't' heard me. "we know that Dr. Stapleton performs secret genetic experiments on animals. The question is, has she been working on something deadlier than a rabbit?"

"To be fair," John said. "that is quite a wide field."

"Indeed. There are hundred of animals." I said. "Where are we off to now?"

"Henry's." Sherlock said.

"Right," John said. "and Sherlock, in the future, you might want to mention that you two are actually married?"

Sherlock frowned. "Why?"

"Because," John shifted uncomfortably. "I had to explain that you two were married when he started questioning Tammy's…marital status."

I blushed. "Oh no!"

Sherlock looked at me. "I'm getting rather used to your frequent admirers Tammy, not that I blame them."

"Mr. Holmes," I said. "in future, kindly refer to me as Mrs. Holmes in the future in front of clients. Please?"

"Uhmm, no."

"Sherlock."

"Look, I'll refer to you as however I want and if you have a problem with that, why don't we discuss it later?"

"Right, shutting up," I said. "you're on a case."

"Well, don't shut up too long. He said. "if you're too quiet, I start looking around and wondering where you are. And don't go back to sleep again. If you do, you're not going to sleep well tonight."

"According to our bet, I wasn't going to be getting much sleep tonight anyway."

Sherlock nodded. "Right, I'll collect that another night."

"Fine."

John groaned. "I now see why honeymoons were invented."

"Why?"

"It takes about two weeks for the married couple to get all that love out of their systems. You, only got a week's worth out. But I guess I can bear all this for another week."

I patted his shoulder. "Thanks John. You're such a sweet sport."

Sherlock made a face. "He is not _sweet_."

"Yes he is. You, are….hmm, I shall have to think about some adjectives that are suitable for you."

John groaned. "We'll have reached Africa by then!"


	33. 33: Not seeing anything

Chapter thirty-three

Not seeing anything

Well, after the excitement of the day, we parked the Land Rover and Sherlock went to go visit Henry. He gave John the address and left us to do the necessary shopping. I needed to get a pair of pants and John had to get a few supplies and that wasn't an experience I'd ever forget. Unlike most men, John was actually fun to go shopping with. He actually read the product description and compared prices. It was amusing watching his eyebrows furrow and shake his head.

I then went and bought my first pair of jeans. I hated pants and I avoided wearing them unless I had to and if I had to wear pants, I wore slacks. I selected a pair of tan jeans and I wiggled into them. They were stiff and a little snug, but they fit fine.

I purchased them, went upstairs to change into outdoor apparel. I put on my green sweater, grabbed my warmest jacket and favorite zebra scarf and hat. I then scurried down the stairs to see John waiting for me.

"Good Tammy, Sherlock's waiting for us." John's browns knitted together. "Woah."

I laughed. "That's a good 'woah' I hope."

"Yeah. You should wear pants more often."

I shook my head. "I don't like feeling confined. And I think they make me look fat."

"Fat? You look anything _but _fat. Sherlock…is going to be bowled over."

"Great." I said. 'He's not going to keep his hands off me."

"I'd have never guessed that."

I rolled my eyes. "Funny John." He shook his head as he opened the door for me. "Thank you."

"I still am amazed, at the way Sherlock is around you."

I confessed. "You should see him when it's just us."

"Not sure I want to see that."

I blushed. "I don't mean it like that. He's so… gentle, sweet and patient with me. He talks to me about personal things; his family and I am privileged that he shares this other side with me. But then, he is such a complex man, I feel I could be married to him for a hundred years and I still wouldn't know him well enough."

John nodded. "He loves you very much. It's…almost amazing to see."

"Thank you John."

"Oh," he reached into his pocket and handed me a surgical mask. "here. I checked the weather and it's going to be freezing tonight. If you put this on over first, and then your scarf it might help you not cough as badly."

"Thank you John. That's really thoughtful of you."

John and I talked on the fifteen minute trip back, it was a nice a refreshing little chat. We didn't talk about intellectual things; in fact, stupid little things like food prices, the weather, games and lots of little things.

Then, John and I got into the back seat so Sherlock and henry could have the front seat. Poor henry looked positively petrified. The atmosphere was wrong, cold and there was something in the air that was frightening.

When we arrived at the hollow, I knew there was something wrong about this. Henry said that it had an ancient name for the Devil and I believed him. There was something wrong about this place.

When the car stopped, heart paused with it. Then everyone began to get out; Sherlock opened my car door. He s watched me swing my legs out of the car while John and henry got the flashlights. "Don't move." I did as he asked and watched as he studied me from top to bottom. "Your pants aren't practical for climbing around the moors."

"Too bad." I made a face at him. "I hate pants and you know that."

"Yeah," he placed his hands on either side of my hips and squeezed me tight and I yelped. "but you fill them out rather nicely."

"You ok?" henry asked.

"She's fine." Sherlock said casually. I observed John trying to distract Henry and doing a good job. He leaned forward and whispered. "You really need to stop yelping." He squeezed me again and I bit my lip. He kissed me, nibbling on my lower lip a little. "And you really need to stop biting your lip, drives me crazy. Now, lets go."

I jumped out of the car. "You...are…a…devil."

He grinned. "Thanks," he slammed the door behind me. "that means I'm not held back by the rules the angels have to play by."

"True," I reminded him. "but the angels always win."

He nodded. "Yeah that is a downside to the whole thing. Let's go. You going to be warm enough?"

"Yes."

"Sure you don't want to leave?"

"I'm sure."

"Fine." He turned and walked away from me. "Keep up."

"Right." I pulled the surgical mask over my mouth, then pulled the scarf over the mask. Now, I really wouldn't be coughing badly. Then, we began the trek. Henry led the way and I stayed right next to Sherlock, without being totally obvious. I rubbed my hands and buried my hands deep in my pockets. The sun seemed to set really fast and there were all sorts of strange sounds.

We walked until we were in the dark woods. I was getting a little creeped out, especially when we started seeing all the danger signs. Henry was more terrified than I was, and I was picking up on his anxiety. Sherlock kept some conversation going, as if he knew that his voice was the balm I needed.

I looked around and noticed we'd lost John. "We lost John.'

"He'll be fine." Sherlock said. "I met a friend of yours."

"Who?"

"Dr. Franklyn." He murmured. "Talking to henry."

"Sorry." I said. "Your friend henry."

Sherlock nudged me with his arm and focused on henry. "He knew your father."

Henry nodded. "Yeah."

Sherlock frowned. "But he works at Baskerville. Didn't your dad have a problem with that?"

Henry shrugged. "Well, mates are mates, aren't they? I mean look at you and John."

"What about us?"

Henry stammered. "Well I mean, he's a pretty straightforward bloke and you-

"Are energetic, crazy and somewhat insensitive man." I explained.

"Well, they agreed to never talk about work. Him and my dad." Henry stopped short. "Dewar's Hollow."

Dewar's Hollow was a large sunken pit in the forest floor, three deep caves extend into one of the rock faces. I felt something touch me on my back and I jumped. "Easy Tammy." Sherlock murmured. "Haven't seen anything yet."

"I suppose," I said as we began to descend the hill. "that now would be a bad time to mention that I'm deathly afraid of dogs."

Sherlock nodded. "Yes, but you wanted to go, deal with it."

"Right. Easy to say." I took hold of henry's hand and he almost broke it, squeezing it too tight. "Us chickens will stick close to you." Henry chuckled nervously. "I wish I knew where John was."

"He fought in Afghanistan and he can handle this place."

"Right." Henry's pulse was going crazy and I tried to assure him. "Everything's ok Henry."

"Yes." Sherlock said unreassuringly. "But do let go Tammy, before he crushes your hand."

"Oh, sorry." henry said.

"It's ok."

We went down the steep slope and I watched as everything began to grow tense. It was a dark, cold, murky and especially foggy place. Sherlock and henry's flashlights began examining the ground and I saw a few paw prints when Sherlock's flashlight stayed still enough for me to see. I moved to stand close next to Sherlock. He aimed his flashlight upward at the trees as a strange, mournful wail of a dog filled the air.

The air seemed to be sucked out of the hollow and it was like being in the middle of a horror film. I could hear branches snapping and a low growling.

Sherlock froze and I saw in the beam of his flashlight, a dog. An ordinary dog, but nothing as terrifying as henry had described. The dog ran away and I looked at Sherlock, and gasped as I saw his face.

He was…scared. I hadn't been scared until I saw the look of terror on Sherlock's face. I was scared because it scared wasn't a word that I'd ever use to describe Sherlock on occasion. He'd laughed in the face of death so many times. Why did I see that terror in his eyes? No, it was more than terror, it was disbelief. Sherlock's hand shook, the flashlight in his hands proved that fact. But why? What did he see that I hadn't?

Sherlock was breathing heavily and he shook his head. Henry scrambled over to us. "Did you see it?"

His words threw caused Sherlock to withdraw, crawling back into his dark, emotionless shell. Sherlock glanced around the hollow for a long moment. He pushed henry aside and then began to climb out of the hollow. I followed Sherlock and henry followed me. We climbed to the top to find John waiting there for us.

I exhaled. "Thank Heaven you're all right."

"Did you hear that?" John asked.

"We saw it!" Henry said. "We saw it!"

"No." Sherlock stated. "We didn't see anything."

"What are you talking about?" henry asked.

"I didn't see anything!"

Sherlock's tone told me that he was trying to tell it to himself. At that moment, I realized what was wrong with him. Sherlock was doubting himself. He wasn't believing whatever it was that he'd have seen and therefore he was assuming that there was something wrong with him.

John looked towards me for an answer. I shot him a look that said I'd talk to him later. But I said firmly. "I didn't see anything." I wasn't lying. I'd seen a perfectly average looking dog.

Sherlock stopped short and studied me. His eyes were running me over, trying to decide if I was lying to him or not. He eventually deduced that I simply wasn't looking at the dog when he saw it. He continued and I bit my lip. I'd seen Sherlock in almost every mood known to Freud. I just wasn't sure, how I could help him this time. Sherlock doubted in himself. He was always confident, right from the moment I met him. Now, I had to help the man I loved find himself again.


	34. 34: Go back to the facts

Chapter thirty-four

Go back to the facts

I went up to my room and changed my clothes. I'd been thinking on what to say to Sherlock once I got him alone, but I couldn't think of what to say. I decided I'd just wait and see him, let him speak, and then act on that.

I changed into a simple black, knee-length dress and walked down the stairs towards the dining room. I glanced around and spotted John and Sherlock sitting in two seats in front of the huge, roaring fireplace.

I walked towards John and Sherlock. I could tell that John looked concerned and Sherlock had his hands pressed on either side of his head. I could see that his hands were shaking and he was breathing heavily. There was definitely something wrong with him. "THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

I jumped as Sherlock's voice rang out in the dining room. John looked embarrassed but Sherlock seemed oblivious about everyone else in the room. I walked towards Sherlock and John, trying to ignore the curious eyes of everyone. I think several of them wanted to warn me to stay away from Sherlock, considering his attitude, but no one did.

I stood quietly behind Sherlock as he hoarsely began speaking. "You want me to prove it, yes? We're looking for a dog, yes? A great big dog, that's your brilliant theory. Cherchez le chien. Good, excellent, yes, where shall we start? How about them?" Sherlock spun in his seat and pointed at a couple at a table behind me. "The sentimental widow and her son, the unemployed fisherman. The answer's yes."

"Yes what?" I asked.

He ignored me. "She's got a West Highland terrier called Whisky. Not exactly what we're looking for."

"Oh, Sherlock," John groaned. "for God's sake."

"Look at the jumper he's wearing. Hardly worn. Clearly he's uncomfortable in it." Sherlock's tone informed that this was going to be a huge deduction. "Maybe it's because of the material; more likely the hideous pattern, suggesting it's a present, probably Christmas. So he wants into his mother's good books. Why? Almost certainly money. He's treating her to a meal but his own portion is small. That means he wants to impress her, but he's trying to economize on his own food."

"Well, maybe he's just not hungry." John advised.

"No, small plate. Starter. He's practically licked it clean. She's nearly finished her pavlova. If she'd treated him, he'd have had as much as he wanted. He's hungry all right, and not well off, you can tell that by the state of his cuffs and shoes." Sherlock shook his head, imitating John. "How do you know she's his mother?" He glowered at John. "Who else would give him a Christmas present like that? Well, it could be an aunt or an elder sister, but mother's more likely. Now, he was a fisherman. Scarring pattern on his hands, very distinctive, fish hooks. They're all quite old now, which suggests he's been unemployed for some time. Not much industry in this part of the world so he's turned to his widowed mother for help." Again, he imitated John. "Widowed?" His expression began to grow more and more agitated within each passing second. "Yes, obviously. She's got a man's wedding ring on a chain round her neck, clearly her late husband's and too big for her finger. She's well dressed but her jewelry's cheap. She could afford better, but she's kept it, it's sentimental. Now, the dog, tiny little hairs all over the leg from where it gets a little bit too friendly." At this point, Sherlock's emotions were beginning to spiral out of control. His nose wrinkled, his eyes widened and his lips flared out from his mouth. "But no hairs above the knees, suggesting it's a small dog, probably a terrier. In fact it is - a West Highland terrier called Whisky." Once again, he imitated John. "How the hell do you know that, Sherlock?" My fingers were just twitching and I had an uncontrollable urge to smack Sherlock's face. Somehow, maybe it would cause him to calm down, look at things rationally, and bring him back into the real world. "Because she was on the same train as us and I heard her calling its name and that's not cheating, that's listening, I use my senses, John, unlike some people, so you see, I am fine, in fact I've never been better, so just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

At that moment, John decided not to bother with my fire-breathing dragon of a husband. "All right." He said quietly. "Now why would you listen to me. I'm just your friend."

Sherlock laughed cynically before spitting at John. "I don't have friends!"

The hurt on John's face gave me courage to do what I'd been tempted to do since he started spewing out that monologue. I inhaled as I drew my hand back and slapped Sherlock's face. It wasn't a kind slap; it was a hard enough slap to sting my hand. Sherlock grabbed ahold of my wrists tightly and jumped up out of his seat, pulling me up with him. People let out gasps at Sherlock's display.

"Let her go Sherlock." John said firmly. "Now."

I didn't look away from Sherlock. "I'm fine John, it's ok."

"I am not leaving you," he said. "until, he's taken his hands off you." Sherlock and I didn't move. We just stood there, looking at each other. Sherlock had a tight grip on my wrists, while my hands hung loose and limp in his grip. John grabbed ahold of Sherlock's wrist. "Sherlock, let her go, or I swear, I will hit you right now." John's words penetrated Sherlock's thick skull and he slowly released me. "Thank you."

"Thank you John, I'm fine. Honest. Go." I placed my hand on Sherlock's shoulder, applying some light pressure. "Come on, sit down. Let's talk."

He did as I asked. "Don't _ever _hit me again." He was seething. "Ever!"

"You hit me once." I reminded him. I sat down on the coffee table, directly in front of him. He glowered darkly at me and I didn't shrink from his touch. "Remember?"

"You were in shock." He snarled. "I am not."

"Aren't you?" I said quietly. "I know you well enough to know that's exactly what's going on with you." I leaned forward and rested my hands on his knees. "You're wondering how you could have seen the hound, when it goes against everything you know about yourself. Am I right?"

He exhaled. "Why don't you just go? I need to think."

"Because I'm your wife Sherlock."

He glowered at me. "What are you saying? That has nothing to do with this!"

"It has everything to do with it! Sherlock." I said. "I'm supposed to be here for you when you need me."

"I _don't need _you!" he snapped.

His words hurt, but I had to be strong for him. "If you didn't, then you wouldn't have married me." I bit my lip. " Now, back to the case, I did see the hound Sherlock." He looked up at me. "To my eyes, there was nothing abnormal about it."

He snapped. "Then you're blind, Tammy. How could you not see it? It was huge!" I frowned. "It had red eyes! How can you say there was _nothing _abnormal about it?"

I exhaled. "I don't know Sherlock." I stood up and kissed his cheek. "If you and I are looking at one thing and seeing different things, there must be something wrong with one of us. What is it?" I asked him. His eyes narrowed and I could see I'd given his brain the small nudge that it needed. "How is that possible? You know I have perfect vision, and I know you do. The logical assumption is that since there is nothing wrong with our eyes. Go back to the facts. Dig deeper Sherlock, I'm sure with your intelligence, that you will find something that all of us missed." Sherlock leaned forward slightly, peering deeply into the fireplace. There was no doubt or fear in his eyes; there was curiosity now. He was thinking hard. "I'll be upstairs."

I walked away from him. I was almost out of hearing distance when I heard Sherlock say. "Sleep well."

I stopped and nodded thoughtfully. "Goodnight."

He didn't respond to me, but what could one say? My hand stung and I rubbed my wrists. I'd hit my husband and he'd grabbed ahold of my wrists in a vice-like grip. For the first time, we'd physically hurt each other intentionally and that made me sick. I walked away from him. He'd said, "Goodnight," to me, but for the life of me I couldn't see what was good about it.


	35. 35: I break so easily

Chapter thirty-five

I break so easily

I couldn't sleep. how could I? I tried, but for some reason it just wasn't the same without Sherlock beside me. I got up, slid into my dress and walked down the stairs. The dining room was empty and Sherlock was gone. I walked into the other part of the inn and entered the pub. One of the owners, Gary, was down there, supplying drinks for a few customers.

He smiled at me. "Can I get you something?"

I shook my head. "No thank you." I spied the piano in the corner and moved towards it. "Can I play the piano?"

"No one around here plays the thing. It's just for looks really. Can you play?"

I nodded. "I'm a professional nightclub singer."

"Then what are you doing out here?"

I sat down and pulled the lid up on the piano. "Don't know." I exhaled and shook my head. "I really don't know."

I exhaled and began playing. I was feeling blue and depressed. Music always calmed my soul. My fingers picked out the rarely known song, "I break so easily," recorded by Lisa Richards. In a way, I was mourning about the night that Sherlock and I were supposed to be having. But tonight, we were farther apart than we'd been when Moriarty tried to force us apart.

_Sometimes I feel, like I'm made of glass. Fragile and bare, transparent as air. Don't turn away from me, I break so easily. _I wasn't shy about singing such an intimate song in this strange atmosphere. It was quiet and I was depressed. My mind was full of Sherlock, so I had the right emotions for this song. Tears filled my eyes and I shook them away. _Sometimes I'm like an abandoned child. Lost and alone, longing for a home. Don't turn away from me, I break so easily. _

My fingers flew over the keys.A shadow fell over me and I looked up expecting to see Sherlock. But to my disappointment, it was Robert standing beside me with a pint of what I assumed was beer. I looked down and focused on the piano keys. _My act is my armor. So don't let it fool you, it's keeping me safe from life. You swear that you want me, you swear you won't leave me. A promise is never enough. _

Robert must have sensed the conflict in me, for he placed a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged my shoulder, and he removed his hand from my shoulder._ Sometime I'm just an awkward young girl. Alone at the dance, dreaming of romance. Don't turn away from me, I break so easily. _A tear leaked down my cheek and I shook my head slightly. My voice sounded as if I was struggling against tears, which I was. I paused, giving my emotions a few seconds to adjust. _Sometimes I feel like a delicate rose, who's lost her perfume nevermore to bloom. Don't turn away from me, I break so easily._

My fingers fell from the keys and I put the lid down. "That was lovely lass." Gary said. "Here, have a drink on me."

I exhaled. "I'll have some cider, if you've got it."

"Er, will sparkling cider be fine?"

I nodded and stood up. "Yes. Even better." I turned to Robert. "I wouldn't be here if Sherlock shows up."

"You've been crying." He said gently. "Are you ok?"

"Just fine." I wiped my eyes. "I had my first argument with him tonight."

"And?"

I shifted. "I hit him."

"And what did he do?"

"I don't think that concerns you." I replied. "It's none of your business."

"It becomes any man's business when he sees a woman crying." I rubbed my wrists and he took ahold of my hand. "Tammy." I looked down at my wrists and saw that they were red, turning a light brown. I hadn't realized that he'd grabbed me so tight. "He did this to you didn't he?"

I pulled free of Robert's grasp. "It doesn't matter."

"He hurt you."

"He didn't mean it."

"You should report him to the police."

"Stay away from me Robert."

"This," I looked up to see John standing there. He looked cold and tired. "doesn't concern you. As Sherlock pointed out earlier, she's his wife and she's not your girlfriend anymore." John looked at me. "Come on Tammy, I'll take you upstairs."

"All right." I turned to Gary, who was extending my sparkling cider to me. "Thank you."

"Sleep well lassie."

I nodded and followed John me up the stairs. "So, what was that about? Why did he want you to report Sherlock to the police?"

"Oh, Sherlock's grip was tighter than it looks. I'm going to have a light bruise in the morning." John stopped and moved to examine my wrist. "Don't worry Doctor, it doesn't hurt. I really shouldn't have hit him."

"Maybe, but he didn't have to hurt you. And don't you make any excuses for him Tammy. He's your husband and no matter what you do, he should never, ever, raise a hand to you. He can protect himself from your blows, you can't. besides, this is Sherlock Holmes you're married to, I'm surprised he didn't see your slap coming."

I exhaled. "I don't know where he is. I don't even know what time it is now."

"It's uhm, almost 1:00. And he's probably out checking something out."

"I hope so. What were you doing up?" I asked.

"I saw some Morse code out there and I went out to investigate."

I exhaled. "I hate this case John. There's something…unnatural, evil about it. there's this…cold, unrest in the air. I can feel it."

"It's been a long day." He assured me. "We're all a little off."

"I did see the hound John." He frowned a little bit. "But I just saw an ordinary dog. Nothing terrifying. I wasn't scared. All right, I was scared. But I didn't get scared until I saw Sherlock get scared. I hope you never have to see him when he's really scared John. It's frightening." I changed the subject. "What was the Morse code you saw?"

"It doesn't make sense. It was one word, or I think it's a word. U-M-Q-R-A."

I frowned. "I've never heard of that before. But I will sleep on it John, maybe something will come to me."

"All right." He reached out and awkwardly rubbed my shoulder. "Try to get a good night's sleep, you're overtired. Things will look better in the morning."

I exhaled. "Thank you John. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Tammy."

I opened the door to our room to find Sherlock was in bed, in his pajamas. I could feel his eyes on me as he studied me. "Was that John you were talking to outside?"

I nodded. "Yes. He just got back from returning to the hollow."

"What was he doing back there?"

"Someone signaled with a flashlight the word UMQRA, in Morse code, he went back out to investigate."

"I see."

I walked over to the bed, pulling off my dress and I reached for my nightdress. As I pulled the nightdress over my head, I could feel Sherlock blatantly staring at me, but I ignored him. I hung my dress over a chair before getting into the cold bed. I rolled on my side, my back to Sherlock as I pulled the covers up to my chin.

Things were awkward between us. I could practically feel the tension between us. I closed my eyes, as tears leaked down my cheeks. I bit my lip, trying to bear the awkward tension in the air. I felt Sherlock's foot brush mine by accident and my heart caught in my chest.

"Tammy?" I felt his hand on my shoulder and my body trembled. My will power slowly began to crumble under his touch and his velvety voice as he repeated part of our ceremony. "In the 'Art of marriage' the little things are the big things." I felt his lips so close on m ear. "It is never going to sleep angry."

I rolled over onto my side. "Sherlock."

His lips covered mine and I groaned as he applied pressure to my lips. I pulled away and spoke at the same time Sherlock did. "I'm sorry."

I stared at him. Did those words actually leave his lips? I covered my mouth. "Sherlock?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry." He took my hands and looked at my wrists. "I hurt you."

I shook my head. "No I'm sorry." I ran my hand over the cheek that I'd slapped. "I shouldn't have hit you."

"I'm fine Tammy," he kissed my hand. "you didn't hit me that hard. I think it hurt you more than it hurt me."

"It did Sherlock, I won't hit you again. And I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself."

"I am curious though, why did you do that?"

"I just wanted you to…stop Sherlock. It…frightened me." He frowned. "I was nervous out there, I wasn't scared, until I saw that you were scared. You, shut John out and you shut me out. I-I wanted to…get your attention. I'd lost you, and I could tell that was loosing you. I just…wanted to bring you back Sherlock."

"And you did." He stated. "I just…never felt that way before. I felt doubt. I could always trust my senses, the evidence of my own eyes until last night."

"It's still night."

"It's 1:30 in the morning Tammy. I still can't believe that I saw some kind of monster. You didn't. So the question, for both of us that you proposed is, "How?" How did we see two totally different things?" He pulled me into his side as he rolled onto his back. He thumped his fingers onto my shoulder. "How did I see it?" I yawned and he frowned. "You're tired."

"Sorry."

He rubbed my shoulder. "You've been dragged and flown all around these last few days. You've a right to be tired. Go to sleep."

"Sherlock, I promise I won't hit you ever again."

He rubbed my shoulder. "Go to sleep Tammy."

"Apologize to John."

"Why?"

"Because, you don't have friends Sherlock. You've just got one." I reminded him. "And that's John. Robert was in the club tonight." I felt Sherlock stiffen beside me. "Nothing happened, he placed his hand on my shoulder and John chased him off. He's the best friend any man could ever ask for. He's loyal, straightforward, honest and he'd lay down his life for you in a second. You know that."

"I wouldn't say he's the only friend I've got. I've got you."

I smiled as I rested my left hand on his shoulder. "Indeed you do Sherlock." I snuggled close. "I can't wait for John to get married. I wonder what kind of woman she'll be?" Sherlock groaned. "Can't you just picture him and his wife bringing their children over for Christmas?"

Sherlock studied me. "Don't you want children?"

I nodded. "Yes. I do."

"Why?"

"Because Sherlock, I figure we owe to the world to start producing children with your brain." He snorted and rolled his eyes. "No. I want children because for me, it's the most beautiful thing in the world."

"You'll be complaining that you're fat."

"And I'll send you out at for all kinds of foods that I happen to have cravings for."

Sherlock groaned. "Pickles dipped in chocolate probably."

"I was actually thinking of strawberries dipped in salsa." I frowned. "Hmm, and it would definetly be a challenge to control all the little imitations of you running around the house."


	36. 36: A cheerful Sherlock

Chapter thirty-six

A cheerful Sherlock

"Rise and shine Tammy." Sherlock said as he pulled covers back from over my head. "Time to get up."

I groaned. "What are you so cheerful about this early in the morning?"

"It's 8:30." He said. "And, we're having breakfast downstairs later. Shower is open if you want it."

I nodded. "Yes," I yawned and stumbled out of bed. "hot water sounds lovely about now."

"Might want to put on something warm, it's a little cool outside."

"Thank." I grabbed the pants and sweater I'd worn yesterday and fresh undergarments. Then I stumbled towards the bathroom. I fought back another yawn as I dropped my clothes in a heap on the floor before stepping into the shower. I turned the water on warm and shivered as the warm water flowed over my cold skin. Then, the shower door opened and I turned to see Sherlock had entered the shower behind me. I tried to look stern, but I was failing miserably. "I should have known."

"Well, you need someone to scrub your back." He held up two washcloths. "See?"

I smiled and reached for their complimentary soap. "That'll be nice. Thanks." I took the washcloth, got mine wet and began to lather it up. I moved so Sherlock could get wet and lather up his washcloth. I began washing my neck and collarbone, then I felt Sherlock's hand on my neck, slowly moving down the path of my spine. "Sherlock?" I turned to face him and his arms circled my hips and he lifted me up into his arms. I knew that look in his eyes and I felt my entire body quiver in his arms. "Sherlock. I don't want my hair—

He silenced me with a kiss. I groaned as he backed me up, under the shower spray, getting my hair wet. I groaned in disappointment, but Sherlock took it as a groan of pleasure. He began massaging my wet skin under his hands. "God," he groaned as he slid me slowly down his body. "you feel amazing like this." He began placing those open mouth kisses down my shoulder. "All hot, wet, and slippery."

"You don't feel so bad yourself."

Sherlock began kissing me eagerly and I parted my lips enough to grant that tongue of his access. Ordinarily, I had thought French kissing was disgusting. Robert had tried it once, but unfortunately we'd both had burgers with onions and _that _experience was awful! With Sherlock, it was different.

I was feeling rather bold and minx-like this morning. I slid my hands down his back to his hips and I actually got up enough give his rear a slight squeeze. Sherlock jumped as he let out a surprised shout. I laughed at his confused expression. He shook his head and leaned forward to claim my mouth again. "Damn you, you seductive Riddler."

I felt Sherlock back me up into a corner, aiming the showerhead directly above us. Sherlock nudged my feet apart and I let out a sharp cry as he thrust up into me. I bit my lip, trying to keep the noise down so whoever was next door wouldn't hear us.

"Oh for God's sake Tammy," Sherlock grunted. "stop biting your lip and let it out!"

Sherlock began moving inside me and I groaned. Oh, my body was such a weak tool whenever it joined with his. I wrapped one of my legs around his hip, allowing him deeper access as I flung my arms around his shoulders. Sherlock kissed me and I felt him smile against my lips. As his movements sped up, I broke the kiss and buried my mouth into his shoulder to try to muffle the sounds but my cries of pleasure filled the bathroom as he moved hard and fast inside me. Sherlock grabbed my arms and pinned them over my head. When Sherlock and I both came together, I would have sunk to the shower floor in pure exhausted pleasure, had he not been holding me up.

I ran my hand through his wet hair. "I hope nobody heard us."

Sherlock laughed. "Practical Tammy, even when I am making love to you in a shower, your mind still wanders." He kissed me once and turned the shower spray back to the center of the shower. "Time to go. We have to visit henry."

I groaned. "I didn't even get to soap up."

"No time for that now." I leaned against the wall for support and Sherlock frowned at me. "Something wrong?"

I shook my head. "My legs feel like jelly."

He laughed. "I must be doing something right then. Listen, we'll finish this tonight, if you're not too tired."

"How about I finish my shower, alone, and we finish this in bed tonight if you're in your Sherlock frame of mind?"

"Sold." He stepped aside, opened the shower door and got out. I stepped under the spray as Sherlock's hand snaked out and swatted my rear. I let out a surprised yelp. "And I will collect."

I don't know how we made it down stairs without going for a second round. Sherlock dressed faster than I did, so he just stood there, watching me get dressed, devouring me with those eyes of his. But, we made it down the stairs without any mishap. Sherlock must have solved the mystery, for he was humming Vivaldi's Four Seasons-Spring. He took my hand and swung it back and forth. I shook my head and decided not to say anything to spoil the moment.

We walked up to henry's beautiful house and Sherlock banged on the door. He kissed me quickly before resuming his business face. "You've been forgetting those good luck kisses Mrs. Holmes."

I laughed lightly. "I'm sorry Mr. Holmes. I won't forget again."

Henry opened the door and Sherlock barged in. "Morning!" he grabbed henry's shoulders and studied his face. "How are you feeling?"

Poor henry looked dazed. "I-I didn't sleep very well." I studied him. He looked terrible, as if he'd stayed awake all night.

"Oh that's a shame." But Sherlock sounded a little too cheerful. "How about I make us some coffee?" now my mouth dropped open in surprise. Sherlock was actually offering to make coffee?! He grinned and pulled out a cocoa packet of his coat pocket. "Brought one for you too Tammy." He then looked upward. "Oh look, you've got damp!" with that, he trotted off towards the kitchen.

I stared at his vanishing figure. Henry looked at me in shock and looked at me. "What's up with him?"

I shook my head. "I may be married to him, but I don't know everything about him." I heard this loud clattering and banging so I decided to move towards the kitchen. "We should go before he starts ransacking the kitchen."

Henry frowned. "Why'd you say you didn't see the hound?" he asked me. "You were standing right by Sherlock, looking up. I saw you."

I shrugged. "Because, like Sherlock, I didn't see anything."

Henry and I found Sherlock making coffee in the kitchen. "Listen, last night." Henry asked. Why did you say you hadn't seen anything? I mean I only saw the hound for a minute."

Sherlock down the coffee grounds. "Hound."

Henry blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Why do you call it a hound?" Sherlock asked. "Why a hound?"

Henry frowned. "Why? What do you mean?"

Sherlock stepped closer. "It's odd, isn't it? Strange choice of words. Archaic." My heart nearly burst as I heard him take on his 'deduction' voice. Sherlock was back in business! "It's why I took the case. "Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound." Why say "hound?"

Henry shook his head in tired despair. "I don't know."

"Actually I better skip the coffee. Tammy. Come."

I impulsively made the mistake of saluting him. "Yes sir!" he arched a brow at me and I nodded. "Sorry."

He didn't say anything as we turned and walked back down. Sherlock's brow was furrowed and I wisely held my tongue as we walked partway down the hill. As we passed the church, Sherlock stopped and I followed his gaze to see John sitting in the graveyard.

I turned and walked over to a tree and began casually examining it. I watched as Sherlock stared at John. "Go on." I whispered more to myself than him. But he moved and entered the churchyard as the words left my mouth.

I couldn't hear the words that they exchanged. Once they began to walk to the back of the church, I entered the yard and began following them at a distance. I could hear and occasional word or two, but I was trying not to listen to them. At one point, Sherlock grabbed ahold of John's arm and they exchanged words.

Then, John turned and walked away. "Like I said before John," Sherlock called after him. "I don't have friends." He hesitated and I knew that actually saying the next words were difficult for him. "I've just got one."

John paused, turned his head to the side, and looked at Sherlock. "Right." He turned and walked away.

I smiled as Sherlock's face lit up. We both knew John well enough to know that he'd forgiven him. "John! John!" Sherlock then ran after John and I followed him "You are amazing! You are fantastic!"

"Yes, alright." John said. "Don't have to overdo it."

Sherlock continued speaking. "You've never been the most luminous of people, but as a conductor of light you are unbeatable."

"Cheers." John frowned. "What?"

"Some people who aren't geniuses have an amazing ability to stimulate it in others."

I groaned in aggravation. "Hang on, you were saying sorry a minute ago." John said. "Don't spoil it." Sherlock pulled out his little notepad and began writing on it. "Go on. What have I done that's so bloody stimulating?" Sherlock spun around and showed John the notepad. All I saw was the word hound on it. "Yeah?"

"But, what if it's not a word?" he asked he wrote on the pad again. "What if it is individual letters?"

"Think it's an acronym?" John asked.

Sherlock shrugged. "Absolutely no idea," Sherlock frowned and looked inside the pub and anger flashed briefly on his face. He stomped into the pub and snapped. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I followed behind Sherlock to find Lestrade in the pub. "Oh, nice to see you too." He removed his dark sunglasses. "I'm on a holiday, would you believe?"

Sherlock was livid. "No. I wouldn't."

"Hello!" I said as I hugged Greg. "So nice to see you!"

He hugged me back. "Same here Tammy." He surveyed my appearance. "You look a little tired…but happy. Sherlock been treating you right?"

I nodded. "Yes. He treats me very well."

"I can see that." Greg said as he touched the spot on my neck where Sherlock had bitten me earlier. "Never figured Sherlock for the rough type."

I blushed and murmured. "He's actually very gentle with me. We just got a little …enthusiastic this morning."

"Good to know."

Sherlock groaned. "You are _not _actually having this conversation about me in front of Lestrade."

"Sorry."

Lestrade turned to John. "Hello John."

"Hi Greg."

Sherlock frowned in confusion. Lestrade continued speaking. "I heard you were in the area, what are you up to? You after this hound from Hell like on the telly?"

Sherlock glowered darkly at Lestrade. "I'm waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?

Lestrade repeated. "I told you, I'm on a holiday."

"You're brown as a nut." Sherlock snapped. "You're clearly just back from your holidays."

"Maybe I fancied another one."

Sherlock groaned. "Oh this is Mycroft, isn't it?"

Lestrade sighed. "Now look."

Sherlock cut Lestrade off. "Of course it is! One mention of Baskerville and he sends down my handler to, to spy on me incognito. Is that why you're calling yourself Greg?"

I laughed as John frowned at Sherlock. "That's his name."

Sherlock looked stunned. "Is it?"

"Yes." Lestrade nodded. "You never bothered to find out."

Sherlock looked towards me. "Is that the Greg you were talking to after I proposed to you?"

"Yes!"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you figured it out!"

"I didn't say I did!"

"Because you say it best when you say nothing at all!"

"Oh stop quoting corny lyrics Tammy. Life isn't a musical!"

"And life isn't an experiment."

"Children." Lestrade said, slipping into a father role. "Calm down. Look, I'm not your handler and I don't always do what your brother tells me."

"Actually," John said. "you could be just the man we want."

Sherlock shot John a look of indignation. "Why?"

"Well, I've not been idle Sherlock." John reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. "In fact, I think I might have found something. Didn't think it was relevant, but it's starting to look like it might be." He handed Sherlock the slip. "Now, that is an awful lot of meat for a vegetarian restaurant."

"Excellent."

"A nice, scary, inspector from Scotland Yard who could put in a few calls might come in very handy."

"Right." I said. "I'm heading up to my room for a bit."

"Aren't you coming with us?" Sherlock asked.

I shook my head. "No, I can't stand seeing vegetarians being eaten alive."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I figured, I'd try to go take a shower. I haven't have one in a week. Then I'll call Mrs. Hudson and see how she's doing."

"You had one this morning." Sherlock reminded me.

"Without soap!" I said. "Not much good. Then, I'll come and find you guys. I'm assuming you're around here. If not, I'll text you and find you all." I kissed his cheek and walked away. "See you later."

"Catch…you…later." Sherlock said slowly as I walked away from him. I smiled, feeling his eyes on me; I swung my hips a little more for his benefit.

"Jeez, Sherlock," John said. "do you mind? You're practically drooling."

"I am not!" He said indignantly. "Now, lets get our head back in the game."

"And your eyes back in your head." John said.

"Stop arguing." I stopped and turn around to face the glowering men. "Sherlock, oggle me all you want." He grinned triumphantly. "John and Lestrade, ignore him! That way, we'll all get along fine!"

* * *

**Ok, I've got a shout out about 2 stories. The first is 'Carmen' by BringMeBackToEarth. It's a Sherlock fic, and he finds an adorable baby girl Carmen. This is a great fic for anyone who'd love to see Sherlock as a father! **

**The other one is an Avengers fic 'An Unwritten Bond' by lollyg17. Rika, is Thor and Loki's younger sister. When they go to recieve the Tesseract and retrieve Loki, things start to unravel. Loki is Rika's favorite brother, and will she surrender to the dark side? Or, will a certain mortal, named Tony Stark, win her heart and cause her to reconsider?**


	37. 37: Trapped in the lab

Chapter thirty-seven

Trapped in the lab

An hour later, Sherlock, John and I found ourselves at Baskerville again. Somehow, Sherlock had managed to sweet talk Mycroft into letting him have a full 24 hours of access to solve this case. I don't know how he managed to do that, but he did. Sherlock was then in a heated discussion with Major Barrymore. I waited patiently outside the door, finishing up my thermos of hot coca that Sherlock had prepared for me. It tasted a little sweeter than normal, but good.

When Sherlock began to exit the room, I heard the Major's gruff voice through the open door. "I don't know what the hell you expect to find out here anyway."

"Perhaps the truth." Sherlock said as he leaned on the doorknob.

"About what?" Sherlock shot him a knowing look. "Oh I see. The big coat should have told me. You're one of the conspiracy lot aren't you?" I couldn't see Sherlock's face, but I could just imagining him rolling his eyes in boredom. "Well now, go ahead, seek them out. The monsters. The death rays. The aliens."

"Have you got any of those?" Sherlock asked so casually innocently. "Oh just wondering."

"A couple of them crash landed here in the 60's. We call them Abbott and Costello."

I spoke up. "Actually, you must mean Martin and Lewis, though they were really from the 50's." Sherlock turned and smiled at me. "Abbot and Costello dominated the screen during the late 30's and early 40's."

The major jerked his head at me. "Who is this?"

"My wife." He walked up to me and took hold of my elbow. "And don't get her upset major, it's liable to be a messy thing. Look," he said snapping his fingers at a corporal. "why don't you go and join John in the lab? I'll be down there directly."

"Ok." I added for good measure. "try not to get mixed up with too many people who can't tell the difference between comedy teams."

"Right. Go on then." As I walked away, Sherlock turned back to the Major. "Right, now back to business Major."

I followed the Corporal to the elevator. He was stiff and quiet, I wondered if this was how prisoners felt in prison. We exited on a certain floor and I found John there. Once I was with John the corporal left me with him.

"Hello Tammy."

"Hello John. Sherlock kicked you down here with me?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He's onto a different angle."

John and I walked around the lab, observing everything. I frowned as everyone disappeared and the lights dimmed. I stuck close to John, feeling a little ill at ease. "Nervous?"

"A little." I admitted. "There's….no around except us."

He nodded. "Odd, isn't it? Maybe they're going on lunch break."

"All of them?"

John swiped his card and we went through the next door. "Being married to Sherlock is rubbing off on you isn't it?"

"A little."

Words weren't spoken as we poked around the rooms. So far, we didn't anything obvious. Then, we went back into the first room we'd entered a huge, bright, blinding white light filled the room. I jumped and covered my eyes. I only opened them once this huge blaring sound went off. John was startled for a moment, but the military in him jumped into gear. He grabbed my hand and dragged me towards the exit. He swiped his card and his access was denied. He tried it three more times and it failed. Then, the lights went out and everything went silent.

"Great." I said as I rubbed my aching ears.

"I brought a flashlight." He said as he reached into his pocket. "Here."

"Thank goodness." He turned it on and began to aim it around the room. "Hello?"

We walked slowly around the room, listening carefully. John began throwing the tarps back on some of the cages. In one of them, a monkey jumped at the cage bars at us, scaring us to death. I let out a small shriek as I backed away from the monkey. "Woah, that was a bit creepy." Then, John's flashlight showed us a cage, which had it's bars bent back, as if an animal had broken through.

My first thought was the hound, but I pushed that thought out of my mind. It'd be impossible for it to get into the lab without being detected and then get back out onto the moors. John went to try another door and I followed him. Again, the car was rejected.

I groaned as John pulled out his phone and dialed Sherlock. Sherlock didn't pick up. John swore lightly under his breath. "He's not answering?"

"No." I heard the sound of running feet and John grabbed my hand. "Shh." I nodded silently. Something didn't feel right. John scurried to where he'd heard the sounds and I followed him as silently as my boots allowed it. We went up to the other door and before John could try it, that's when I heard a dog growl.

John and I both froze and we glanced at each other. Both of us began to panic. I was afraid of dogs to begin with. This one didn't sound friendly and we were trapped in a lab with it. John grabbed my hand dragged me towards the cages.

"Inside." He hissed. He let me in first and then got in, slamming the door behind me. On cue, his phone rang and he answered it. I closed my eyes, concentrated on breathing, refusing to have a panic attack. "It's in here." John breathed into the phone. "It's in here with me."

"Where are you?" Relief washed over me as I heard Sherlock's calm voice through the phone. I groaned. _Why did he always have to be so calm!?_

"It's a big lab. The first lab that we saw."

"Is Tammy with you?"

"Yes." The dog growled again and I jumped. Cage or not, I was still nervous about being trapped in here with a possibly rabid dog.

"John? John?"

"Sherlock, please, you've got to get us out of here." I looked at John and again, I saw fear in his eyes, like I'd seen in Sherlock's the night before. I touched his shoulder gently and he jumped.

"All right I'll find you, keep talking."

"I can't it'll hear me."

"Keep talking. What are you seeing?" I coughed. "Tammy? Can you hear me? Are you seeing anything?"

"No." I breathed. "But I can hear it. I'm not in a good place to see anything."

"John?" Sherlock asked. "What can you see?"

"I don't know." John said as he leaned forward to peer through the material. "But I can hear it. Did you hear that?"

"Stay calm. Stay calm. Can you see it?"

John shook his head. "No."

I crept towards the tarp, lifted it up and peered outside. I didn't see anything either way. The growls and snarls drew closer to the cage. I dropped the tarp and crept back into my corner. I covered my mouth to keep from screaming. I didn't see the dog, but I could hear it. I was picking up on John's anxiety and that was throwing my emotions out of control.

John slowly drew back, his face was pale, and I could see that in the light of his phone. "I can see it." a huge shadow crossed in front of the cage and my heart flew up in my throat. "I can see it." I started breathing heavily. The tension in the room was too much for me. "It's here."

Suddenly, the tarp flew back, the lights went on and I screamed in terror, which became a cry of relief, when I saw Sherlock standing there! He pulled the cage door back and knelt down beside John. "Are you all right John?"

"Jesus Christ," John bolted out of the cage as if he'd been shot out of it. "it was the hound." I couldn't see John anymore, but I could hear the panic in his voice. "Sherlock it was here. It was hear I swear it!"

Sherlock at this moment was more focused on me. "Tammy?" He grabbed ahold of my hand and pulled me up and out of the cage. "Are you all right?"

"Yes!" I coughed as I grabbed ahold of his shoulders and hugged him tightly. Sherlock indulged me by holding me tightly in his arms. "Oh, where are you when I need you?"

"It's all right." He murmured reassuringly. "It's all right now."

Sherlock tilted my chin up towards his face and kissed me. I kissed him eagerly, relishing the security I felt with him. But, there was something wrong with this kiss. I tasted…an apology on his lips. I pulled back and frowned at him. Why did I taste an apology on his lips? "Sherlock?"

"Did you see it?" John's outburst distracted both of us. "You must have!"

Sherlock released me and walked over to John. I sagged against the cage in relief. "It's ok."

"No, it's not!" John shouted. "It's not okay! I saw it, I was wrong!"

Sherlock shrugged. "Let's not jump to conclusions."

John and I stared at him in wonder. "What?"

"What did you see Tammy?"

"I saw nothing." I repeated. "I heard it, but I didn't see it."

"And you John?"

"I told you, I saw the hound."

"Beside the fact that Tammy insists that she saw nothing, you tell me what you saw? Huge, red eyes?"

"Yes."

"Glowing?"

"Yeah."

"No."

John looked positively baffled. "What?"

"I made up the bit about glowing. You saw what you expected to see because I told you. You have been drugged. We have all been drugged." He paused and frowned. "Except for Tammy."

"What?" I frowned. "Why am I not drugged?"

"I don't know. I thought it was in the sugar! It had to be. You don't drink coffee and John doesn't have sugar in his coffee." He began that frantic pacing of his up and down the lab. "This makes no sense!" He snapped. "You and John both drank drinks I prepared for you with the sugar. He showed signs of being drugged, you didn't. You were just scared." Sherlock grabbed ahold of my shoulders. "What kind of immunity do you have Tammy? What is it? What is that you have that we don't have? You eat the same food. Drink the same water. Breathe the same air."

"No, I don't."

"Yes you do!"

"Sherlock, my allergies remember? And that night we went up to Dewar's Hollow, John had given me a surgeon's mask, thinking it would help ease my coughing. It did. I didn't cough once."

Sherlock's fingers dug into my shoulders. "I didn't see you wearing it!"

"I wore it under my scarf."

Sherlock's eyes flashed and his eyes lit up. He clapped his hands in delight. "Of course." His eyes lit up. "Right! I need access to a computer, now! Can the two of you walk?"

John nodded. "Yeah."

"I-I need a minute." I said. "My legs feel like jelly."

"Can't wait that long." Sherlock picked me up and moved towards the closed door. He then kissed me with a great big smack that resonated in the empty room. "I'd be lost without my Riddler."

"I'm not understanding this, nor you at this moment." My mind was reeling, so I wasn't completely concentrating. I had a hunch that something obvious had happened to me and I'd just missed out on it.


	38. 38: Project HOUND

Chapter thirty-eight

Project H.O.U.N.D

Sherlock was in top form this evening. He blackmailed Dr. Stapleton into giving him her full cooperation. Then, he went into his 'mind palace' as he called it for about a half-hour. John and Dr. Stapleton left the room and I sat there and watched him as he searched his mind for any bit of information he'd missed. He must have found it, because he snapped out of it the palace with a satisfied smirk.

He hacked into restricted CIA files of the computer by simply observing Major Barrymore's office. That's when the horror's began to unfold as we began viewing Project H.O.U.N.D. Tears burned my eyes as I saw photographic evidence of the results of that test. The drug was extremely powerful and had caused much harm to so many people. My stomach couldn't take much and I turned aside.

"Jesus." John breathed in horror.

"Project H.O.U.N.D." And for once, Sherlock didn't sound totally excited about having made a new discovery that would close the case. "A new delirium drug, which rendered its users, incredibly suggestible. They wanted to use it as an anti-personnel weapon to totally disorientate the enemy using fear and stimulus. They shut it down and hit it away in 1986."

"Because of what it did to the subjects they tested it on." Dr. Stapleton said quietly.

"And what they did to others." Sherlock said. "Prolonged exposure drove them insane. Made them almost uncontrollably aggressive."

"So someone's been doing it again?" John asked. "Carrying on the experiments?"

"Attempting to refine them perhaps, for the last 20 years."

"Who?" Dr. Stapleton questioned her curiosity now peaked.

"Those names mean anything to you?" John asked her.

"No. Not a thing."

"Five principal scientists. 20 years ago."

A door opened and all our heads whipped around to observe Robert walking in the room. He frowned. "What's…going on here?"

"Don't worry." I said. "We've got full permission and authority to be here."

"Maybe, somebody who says cellphone because of time spent in America." Sherlock stated. "You remember, John? Gave us his number in case we needed him?"

"Who?" Robert and I asked in unison.

"Oh my god," Dr. Stapleton said. "Bob Franklyn."

"What?" Robert asked.

"But bob doesn't even work on, I mean, he's a virologist. This is chemical warfare."

"That's where he started though." Sherlock pointed out. "And he's never lost the certainty, the obsession that the drug really could work. Nice of him to give us his number." Sherlock pulled the number out of his pocket. "Let's arrange a little meeting."

"He won't answer it." Robert stated.

Sherlock glowered at him. "And how would you know?"

"He's conducting a private experiment at home. His phone is off by now."

"And you know such intimate details about him because?"

"I'm his assistant." Robert stated. John's phone went off and he stepped away from us to answer it.

Sherlock's eyes flashed. "Good. Tammy, wave your magic wand and persuade his assistant to come with us."

"I'll ask him. I don't cast spells." Then, Sherlock's words settled over me and I glowered at him. "Why you louse!"

"What?" The concern in John's voice caused everyone to look at him. "Where are you? Right, stay there. We'll get someone to help you, ok?"

"Henry?" Sherlock stated.

"He's attacked Louise and he took off."

Sherlock nodded. "There's only one place he'll go to," he pulled out his phone. "back where it all started. Lestrade, get to the Hollow. Dewar's Hollow now! And bring a gun!" Sherlock grabbed my hand. "Let's go! He's had a head start on us!"

"I'm coming too!" Robert shouted.

"Fine!" Sherlock shouted. "Do keep up though!"

We ran out using the fire exits, which set off the fire alarms and threw the whole base into a panic. Robert was shouting at Sherlock, Sherlock was ignoring him, and John and I ran in silence. Robert and I piled into the back seat, John just closed the door on the front and Sherlock stepped on the gas and drove out of the base like a maniac.

The wood of Dewar's hollow loomed up like a foreboding, haunted house in the mists. Sherlock didn't even turn the car off as he jumped out of it. Robert and I slammed the doors upon exiting.

Sherlock grabbed my arm and pulled. "Come on!"

"Take it easy on her!" Robert shouted at Sherlock.

"Later!" I said. "Later!"

We ran towards the Hollow. My scarf fell off my neck, but I didn't stop to get it. Henry was in danger and I hoped and prayed we weren't too late. Sherlock found the spot and not a moment too soon. For there was henry, kneeling on the ground, with a gun in his mouth.

"No! Henry! No!" Sherlock shouted.

"Henry! Don't!" I called. "Stop!"

"Get back!" He shouted. "Get back, get away from me!"

"Easy, henry, easy." John said in his soothing doctor's voice. "Just relax."

"I know what I am." Henry cried out. "I know what I tried to do!"

"Just put the gun down, it's ok."

"No, no, I know what I am!"

"Yes, I'm sure you do, henry." Sherlock said calmly. "It's all been explained to you, hasn't it? Explained very carefully."

"What?" something in Sherlock's tone had him curious.

Robert laid a hand on my shoulder and he attempted to draw me back. "Don't touch me." I hissed.

"He could shoot you."

"Henry won't hurt me."

"Someone needed to keep you quiet. Needed to keep you as a child to reassert the dream that you both clung onto, because you had started to remember." Sherlock began to inch forward slowly. "Remember now, henry. You've got to remember. What happened here when you were a little boy?"

"I thought, it had my dad." Henry was still pointing the gun at Sherlock, and I was hoping that the gun wouldn't go off. "The hound, I thought that." He broke off with a cry. "Oh, Jesus. I don't know anymore! I don't!" henry opened his mouth and again pointed the gun into his mouth.

"No! Henry!" John shouted.

"Henry don't!" I shouted. "Don't! You need to listen! You're going to throw away a life of peace if you don't stop and listen!"

"Henry, remember, "Liberty Inn" two words. Two words, a frightened little boy saw here 20 years ago." Slowly, henry began to lower the gun. "You'd started to piece things together, remember what really happened here that night. It wasn't an animal, was it, henry?" Henry looked up at Sherlock in dazed confusion. "Not a monster. A man." I watched Henry, as daylight broke in his tortured soul. He finally, began to understand the nightmare that had been torturing him for 20 years. "You couldn't cope, you were just a child. So you rationalized it into something very different. Then you started to remember, so you had to be stopped. Driven out of your mind so that no one would believe a word that you said."

"Sherlock?" I spun around to find Lestrade walking towards us.

John had approached Henry and had taken the gun from him. "It's ok. It's ok mate." He reassured him.

"But, we saw it." Henry said. "The hound, last night. We did."

Robert snorted. "There is no hound."

"Shut up." I said.

"Yes, there was a dog Henry, leaving footprints, scaring witnesses," Sherlock reassured him. "But it was nothing more than an ordinary dog. We both saw it, saw it as our drugged minds wanted us to see it. Fear and stimulus, that's how it works. If you think about it, that would explain why my wife, who's afraid of dogs, remained deathly calm during that whole ordeal." I smiled. "And what woman, in their right mind, wouldn't start screaming if she'd seen what we'd both seen? There never was any monsters."

At that moment, a dog howled loudly and all heads shot up above us. I heard growling and took a few steps away from Sherlock. "Sherlock?" I spun around and looked towards John.

Henry began shrieking "No." a thousand times and Sherlock attempted to calm him down.

"Are you seeing this?" John asked, shining his light in Lestrade's face. Lestrade was shocked and he could only nod at John. Robert was shocked as well. "And they aren't drugged Sherlock. So what is that?" I couldn't really see a dog, but only an outline of its back. "What is it?" John shouted.

"All right," Sherlock said. "it's still here." He mumbled to himself. "Guess they didn't put it down after all." He repeated in a loud, firm tone. "But it's just a just a dog, Henry! It's nothing more than an ordinary dog!"

"My God!" Lestrade shouted. The dog finally came into sight for me and I let out a gasp. It was huge! It was a big, muscular dog and it's eyes did glow red! It looked sick. "Ah, Christ!"

For the longest time all I could do was snare at the snarling dog in pure shock. Then I heard Sherlock behind me shouting. "No! Not you! Not here!" I turned to see him wrestling with Dr. Franklyn. "The fog! The drug is in the fog! Aerosol dispense, that's what it said in those records. Project H.O.U.N.D. it's the fog, a chemical mine field!"

"For God's sake kill it," Dr. Franklyn shouted. "kill it!"

Lestrade took a few shots at the dog, missing it. The dog leaped off the hill, aimed at me! I screamed as this monstrous creature flew at me. I heard John shooting at the dog, with Henry's gun and one of their bullets hit the monstrous dog for its body grew limp. I screamed as I flew backwards onto the ground with the dog ontop of me.

"Tammy!" Sherlock shouted. I lay there screaming with this huge, dead dog, pinning me to the ground. Robert reached me first and he rolled the dog off me. My breathing was skyrocketing out of control.

"Tammy." Robert looked to the others. "She's hurt!"

"God." Lestrade said. "Is she shot?"

"No! But she's not breathing too good."

"She has asthma!" Sherlock reached me first and I grabbed ahold of his hand. "Calm down."

I wanted to. I really did. But I couldn't. Every breath that I drew attempted to smother me. I could breathe. My head began to ache and my chest began to hurt me. Sherlock's eyes grew concerned. "John, come here. Lestrade, don't let Franklyn leave."

John knelt beside me and began taking my pulse. His eyes grew concerned and I felt a hand on my forehead. I jumped. "She's sweating profusely, but her body is ice-cold." Sherlock asked. "Where's your scarf?" I tried to speak, but I couldn't. Sherlock took off his scarf and wrapped it around my neck.

"We've got to get her to a hospital. Now!" I gasped for air; my grip on Sherlock grew tighter. John was now in complete control of the situation. "Robert, call for help."

"What's going on?" Sherlock demanded. "Tammy. Relax."

"The fog." John said. "She must be having an allergic reaction to a drug in the fog! The cold air, the fright, the trauma she's endured and the lack of sleep aren't helping her condition any. Sherlock, is there anything about Tammy I should know?"

My lungs burned and I grabbed onto my throat, as if I could will myself to force my breathing to continue normally. Sherlock let go of my hand and he ran somewhere. I sat up, gasping for him to return to me, but I couldn't hear anymore. My hearing had left me and all I could hear was buzzing. John and Robert laid me back on the ground and I could see their lips moving but I couldn't hear anything. Sherlock returned to place a gas mask over my head, but I couldn't barely breathe now. My lungs closed off my throat and I couldn't breathe. I grabbed onto Sherlock as my vision blurred and my head swam.

"She's stopped breathing!" We the last words I heard John shout.

I remembered feeling Sherlock ripping the gas mask off my head and his lips on my mouth before slipping into a dark and silent world.


	39. 39: Dearest and Darling

Chapter thirty-nine

Dearest and Darling

I ached. My lungs burned. My head was throbbing. My throat was ice-cold. My eyes were heavy, but I forced them to open. I turned my head slowly and took in my surroundings. I was in a hospital and there was hand on mine and another hand was across my chest. I turned my aching neck to see that the hand belonged to Sherlock. He was in a chair and he was asleep, still holding onto me. I lifted my hand and let it fall on his head, massaging his curls.

Sherlock's head shot up instantly, so he must not have been sleeping. "Tammy!" oh dear god, he looked horrible. His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes were wrinkled and I don't think he'd left that chair since I was brought here however long ago.

"How's….Henry?" I croaked.

Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed with a glass of water. "Forget Henry, he's fine. Drink." I nodded and sipped the water slowly. Sherlock's hands were shaking slightly. "You scared me."

I motioned for him to take the water away. "What…happened?"

"You had an allergic reaction to a drug in the fog. Do you remember?" I nodded. Sherlock exhaled. "Your heart stopped, and John got it going again." Sherlock grabbed my hands tightly. "You scared me."

"Sorry." I croaked. "I didn't mean to. Sherlock," He kissed my hand, refusng to let it go. I shook my head as he began trailing kisses down towards my elbow. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I could have lost you." He said. "I almost did."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"See that you don't!" His tone changed to a gentle snap. "How could I have solved that case without your ridiculous asthma?"

The door opened and I looked up to see John there. He looked tired, but Sherlock looked like Hell. John hurried into the room. "Thank goodness, you're conscious." He began to take my pulse. "Don't you be exciting her Sherlock!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Does that mean I can't touch her?"

"Touching is fine."

Sherlock muttered in my ear. "How little he knows."

I nodded. "Indeed."

"Tammy, how are you feeling?"

"Tired, heavy and sore doctor. But overall, fine."

"You almost weren't." John said. "Sherlock had to help us find the antidote. He hasn't left your side since you had that attack." I felt Sherlock's lip against my hand. "You need to rest. I think, you can go home two days." John patted Sherlock's shoulder. "Come on. You need to leave." Sherlock shook his head and stubbornly crawled up onto my cot. I wiggled over a little bit, giving him some space. "Sherlock, you can't."

"Please John?" I asked as I brought my arm up so that it rested on his head. I relaxed as he lay on his side, his arms draped around my waist. Sherlock let out a heavy sigh. "I'll make sure he behaves."

John hesitated. "I hope you can. He's been shouting at the nurses and me these last two days."

My eyes widened. "Two days? Has he slept?"

"No."

I ran my hand through his hair, looking into those tired eyes of Sherlock's. "Then as a doctor, you must prescribe bed rest for him. We'll both sleep."

John frowned. "I can't guarantee anything."

"Just ask Mycroft." Sherlock said. "Now get out of here. I want to spend some time with my wife."

"Thank you John." I said. "Thank you, for saving my life."

John shrugged modestly. "Sherlock found the antidote."

"I can thank my husband personally, anytime I wish. This is your moment, don't bring Sherlock into it." I said gently and firmly. "Sherlock didn't start my heart, _you _did. Thank you. Thank you for bringing me back to him."

I'd rendered John speechless. He nodded at me and looked down at the floor. "Thank you."

With that, John turned and left the room. Sherlock took my chin and made me look at him. "All right, John's had his moment. When do I get mine?"

"As soon as I'm out of the hospital, then I'm yours completly." I kissed him deeply, and I felt Sherlock's hands firmly grip me.

"God," he murmured. "you know that you're the best kisser? Who'd you practice on when you had to perfect them to make them right?"

I ran my hand down his face. "You're my husband, my divine inspiration. If my kisses are so right, it's because I've had you to practice on, no one else."

The next morning, I felt better. I don't know if it had to do with Sherlock's company, but it was wonderful waking up with him beside me. We had breakfast, Sherlock filled me in on the case ending and then he read to me. His mother, had heard I was ill and sent down a book of love letters to me. How she knew I loved hearing Sherlock reading to me, I don't know. Sherlock was fine reading them to me, but around 12:30, he started to get a little antsy.

"Do a little counting and then imagine what a bitch of humour-

"Sherlock!"

"Hey, I'm just reading the book." He handed the book of love letters to me. "Alexander Pushkin to his fiancée, in 1830. His words, not mine."

I smiled and caressed his face. "I'm sorry. You seemed to be in a little bit of a mood." He crossed his arms and I smiled. "I guess you really are in a….bitch of humor aren't you?"

Sherlock groaned. "I want to take you home."

I nodded. "I want to go home too."

He sat down on the edge of my bed. "Then come home with me."

I hesitated. Sherlock practicaly convinced me with a single look. "What would John say?"

"He wouldn't know." He gripped my hand. "You're simply resting at this point and there's no reason why you can't do that at home. Your pain medication is right here." He frowned. "You're supposed to take it in an hour."

"I don't need it Sherlock."

"I can carry you, so that way you won't exert yourself."

I was weakening to his words. "Sherlock, it does sound nice." He kissed me and I nodded. "Take me home."

"Right!" Sherlock helped me sit up in bed and he removed my hospital dress. He removed a dress from his laptop case and helped me climb into it.

I laughed as the dress down around me. "Did you have this planned?"

"No." He put a pair of slippers on my feet. "Put your arms around my neck and let's get out of here."

"Can we go to Angelo's for dinner?" I begged. "I want real food. I'm craving his breadsticks!"

"You'll get fat on those breadsticks of his." My stomach rumbled and Sherlock laughed. "You're hungry now. How about we go to lunch at Angelo's?"

"Oh yes!" I kissed him. "Please! Please! Please! Please can we go?"

"All right."

I imitated Sherlock and snapped at him. "A rabbit John!"

Sherlock laughed. "You're crazy. Now, quiet please, so that way we can make a clean get away."

I nodded and smirked. The moment we made it out of my room, everyone around us errupted in a flurry. Sherlock took off running and we made it outside with a mob behind us. Sherlock and I both flagged down at taxi and he helped me inside. "Take off driver!"

"Right." He said. "That's quite a crowd. Did you two just get married?"

I blushed and laughed. I was in a white dress that could pass for a wedding dress, of sorts. "Hospital actually."

"Yeah." Sherlock groaned. "Couldn't get them to release her early, so I kidnapped her."

I kissed him. "Thank you. Now, I'm hungry!"

"I know that." He reached into his pocket and handed me my inhaler. "Inhale and calm down."

I nodded and did as he asked. Then Sherlock's phone went off. He groaned and turned it on speaker. "Make it fast John."

_What the hell do you think you're doing?_ He shouted angrily. _Tammy needs to be in the hospital._

"John, I'm fine."

_No you're not! You are not ok! You suffered a severe and traumatic time. You need to be back here recuperating!_

"She seems fine to me." The taxi driver said. "Looks very happy too."

"Thank you."

_Who's that?_

"The taxi driver."

John groaned. _A taxi driver is not a qualified physician. I am. Now bring her back!_

"I've got Sherlock with me," I said. "I'll be fine."

_No you won't. You shouldn't even be walking!_

"I'm not! Sherlock's carrying me."

_All around London?_ John didn't sound convinced. _Tammy, this is Sherlock Holmes we're talking about, remember? Where are you two going?_

"Sherlock's taking me home."

_Fine. I'll be waiting to take you back._

"But John," I whined.

"Look," Sherlock said. "it's Tammy's birthday and she deserves to not spend it in a hospital."

I stared at him. "You knew? Sherlock!"

"I'm not that stupid. I snuck a look when you signed our marriage certificate."

"Oh, I love you."

_I am still on the phone!_ John reminded us. _Birthday or not, I will see you at Baker Street in ten minutes and you will be there._

"Yes doctor." I pouted. "I promise, we'll meet you there." Sherlock shut off the phone and I added. "I didn't say what time I'd see him there though."

Sherlock laughed. "You're really taking after me dearest." I covered my mouth and Sherlock tilted his head to the side. "What? Don't like 'Dearest,' I can change it if you'd like?"

"No, I like it…darling."

Sherlock groaned. "This is ridiculously sentimental," I arched a brow at him and he smiled a little and pulled me close. "but I could live with it."


	40. 40: My Birthday surprise

Chapter forty

My Birthday surprise

Sherlock, true to his word, did carry me around. He paid the taxi man, came around to my side of the door and lifted me out of the taxi. "If John could see me now, he wouldn't believe it."

"I'm in your arms and I'm still not believing it."

"Open the door." Sherlock ordered.

"Right." I felt a little ill at ease when we came into the restaurant and all eyes went towards us. Sherlock glanced around and stalked towards the nearest table and set me down.

Angelo bustled over clapping his hands. "Welcome!" He hugged me. "So, how are things with you two? I hope you had a delightful honeymoon."

I laughed. "It lasted four days."

"Why is everyone so interested in our honeymoon?" Sherlock asked as he sat down beside me.

"I think it has something to you and your rather cold stance."

Sherlock gave a curt nod. "Angelo, Tammy's been craving your breadsticks."

I clapped my hands. "And lots of tomato sauce!"

Angelo chuckled. "All right."

"I've been dreaming of those all last night."

Angelo's eyes widened. "You're not pregnant are you?"

"NO!" Sherlock and I chimed at the same time.

Angelo shrugged. "She could be. After all Sherlock, it's a natural thing."

"She's been in the hospital." Sherlock explained. "You know what that their 'food' is like."

"I do." Angelo nodded sympathetically. "I'll go get something to make you forget that hospital food."

And Angelo did. His breadsticks were out of this world. Sherlock wasn't hungry, but he took a few bites, so I wasn't eating alone. He watched me like a hawk and made sure I ate slow enough and chewed the food thoroughly. I took my pain medication, even though I really didn't need it. I felt sluggish, but nothing hurt. Angelo's food almost instantly returned all my strength.

Sherlock played with my left hand the entire time I ate. "Your color looks better." He observed. "Your eyes are back to their sparkling self."

I turned and propped my face up on my chin. "Thanks to you."

Sherlock leaned forward and went to kiss me, and then his phone rang. I groaned, expecting him to answer his phone, but he didn't. Sherlock kissed me and I smiled, he'd chosen the phone over me. I pulled away though. "You should answer your phone. It might be important."

He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it. "Hello?"

_Sherlock? _It was Lestrade. _Look, I'm sorry to bother you, I know you're with Tammy at the hospital. But we've got a problem down here._

"Sorry," he said. "I can't make it."

"Sherlock!" I took the phone from Sherlock. "Greg? This is Tammy."

_Tammy! Oh dear God, are you all right?_

"I'm all right, Sherlock is actually taking me out to lunch."

I heard Greg release an oath as he dropped his phone in surprise. _What are you doing out of the hospital?!_

Sherlock took the phone back from me. "She's fine. What's up?"

_Sherlock!_

"You're interrupting our lunch date. Please state your business or I'm hanging up."

I smiled at Sherlock's reference to our being on a lunch date. _Someone's just stolen the famous painting, 'Falls of the Reichenbach,' and we need you down here. The museum owners have asked for you personally._

I gasped. "Oh my gosh." I laid a hand on his arm. "You must go down immediately."

Sherlock frowned. "I'll be down in an hour."

I grabbed the phone from Sherlock. "We'll be down now Greg. Goodbye."

I hung up and Sherlock glowered at me. "_We_? What do you mean _we_? There is no _we_! You're not going _anywhere_!"

"Come on!"

"No!" I stood up and my legs buckled. Sherlock caught a hold of me."See, you can't even walk!"

"Shut up and lets get down to the crime scene." I gripped ahold of his arm. "Help me."

"Tammy." Sherlock argued as he wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted me up. "We can't afford,

"To waste time dropping me off, settling me into bed comfortably, making sure I have everything I need!" I commented. "Now, the trail could get cold or Andersen could ruin something!" I knew I'd won that battle. "Now, let's go!"

"All right." He said. "But I am finding you a chair once we get there!"

"Yes. It's an art museum Sherlock, there are obviously dozens of places for me to sit!"

* * *

Sherlock walked through the sea of prying eyes, still holding onto me, without even blinking. I couldn't tell if he was embarrassed to be holding me, or if he was enjoying the fact that by merely holding me, he was creating a spectacle.

Sally, of course, was standing at the entrance. Her brows rose. "Why you carrying her?"

I shrugged. "I had an accident a few days ago and I haven't quite recovered my strength yet."

He ignored her. "Where's Lestrade?"

"Main exhibit. But what is she doing here?"

"Lead on." Sherlock followed Sally into the main exhibit. As I predicted, there were plenty of cushioned chairs and set me down in one. "Sally, if it's not too much of a bother, keep an eye on her while I'm scouting the area."

Sally frowned. "You're asking me to watch her?"

"I believe he did Sally." I said. "Now, where's Greg?"

On cue, Greg shouted. "What the Hell is she doing here? Sherlock! She should be in the hospital! Her heart did stop once all ready! Are you trying to stop it again?"

"Greg," I said as I stood up. Sherlock balanced me as I hugged Greg. "I'm only here because I had an argument with Sherlock, which he lost. I've beaten the unbeatable, besides, I'm just going to sit down somewhere around here." I patted Sherlock's shoulder as he guided me back down into the chair. "Now, go ahead and have fun. Don't worry about me, Sally will keep me company."

Sherlock shook his head, but he did as I asked. Sally stood beside me and studied me. "Can I get you anything? A pillow, something to drink?"

"I'd hate to put you out."

"No bother. Lestrade was quite upset when you were sick. He didn't give us any details, so everyone was left guessing." She said soberly. "He thinks of you, as the daughter that he never had."

"Sorry. We were in a chemical mine field at Baskerville and I had an allergic reaction to a drug. I guess I died for a minute, but here I am."

"You really shouldn't be out of bed then."

I laughed lightly. "I'm a lot stronger than I look. But I won't deny that I am a little tired. I will take your offer for a drink. What are my options?"

"Water actually."

"I'll take it."

Sally turned and walked away. Sherlock was rattling off his deductions about the thief to whom I assumed was the museum owner and the poor man looked as if he were about to faint.

In boredom, I looked down at the ground and just studied the floor. Then, I saw a pile of tobacco ashes less than a foot away from me. I got down on my knees and examined it more closely. I glanced around; no one in the room was smoking a pipe. I should have ignored it, but I knew that museums didn't allow people to smoke. It wasn't mud, I could tell that due to my household experience.

Andersen glanced down at me. "What are you doing down there?"

"Tobacco ash." I said. "Someone was smoking in here."

"You must be mistaken." He explained to me as if I was an idiot. "No one smokes in here."

"Can you ask around?" I asked politely. "Make sure?"

"No."

"Was someone smoking in here?" I proclaimed loudly and all heads went towards me. I pointed to the ashes on the ground. "Someone was smoking a pipe in here! Who was it?"

"No one smokes in an art museum." Andersen said. "She's mistaken."

Sherlock walked towards me. "I wouldn't say that out loud in front of Tammy. You're liable to walk away with a bloody ear." He knelt down and his eyes lit up. "And it _is_ tobacco ash."

"But no one in here has been smoking a pipe!" The museum owner said. "It's forbidden!"

"Then it was smoked by someone, who obviously didn't care for the arts." I pointed out. "So why respect the place you despise?"

"Good point Tammy." Sherlock said. "You've been paying attention, I may make a decent Holmes of you yet. This proves my theory, that out thief is a smoker. You're also out of your chair."

"I couldn't examine it from the chair." He helped me up and back into my chair. "I'm fine. Which of the 243 types of tobacco ash was it?" Sherlock kissed my cheek and I stared at him in amazement. "What was that for?"

"For actually listening to me. John can never remember the exact number of tobacco ash." Sherlock turned and went back towards the wall. "All right, so he's a smoker as well, that narrows the field quite a bit."

Andersen's mouth fell open in shock. "Why did he just-

"Oh for God's sake Andersen," I snapped. "get out of my sight and mind your own business!" he opened his mouth and I cut him off. "And if you don't leave me alone, I will report you to Lestrade and he _will not _be as merciful as I am."

Sherlock glanced up at me. I smiled and wiggled my fingers at him, assuring him that I was fine. "Here you go." Sally said as Andersen stalked off.

I turned and reached for my water. "Thank you sally."

"You…actually love him." Sally said slowly. I looked up at her, she looked slightly confused. "I don't understand it. Why him?"

I leaned back in my chair. "Who tells the heart to love? I don't know. I think I was attracted to him the moment he first touched my hand. I fell in love with him a week after that."

"But how?" Sally asked as she sat down beside me. "I mean, he's so rude, and such a know-it-all."

I nodded. "Yes, but he's also very sweet."

"Sweet?" Sally laughed. "Him? Sweet?"

"I know he's a hard man to understand, but there's another side to him that he shows to no one but me. He was reading love letters to me today. He knows I love listening to him talk, so he said he'll read a letter to me every night and every morning." I glanced up at Sherlock. He was moving around the room, examining it and looking rather ridiculous at the moment. "Everyone has a job in their life, you found yours and mine is simply being there when he needs me. And I love it."

My phone went off and Sherlock shouted. "Don't answer it! It's John!"

I glanced down at it and sure enough, it was John. "As I was saying, I love the job…most of the time." Sally and I laughed, somehow, we'd broken the ice between us. Maybe, a friendship could be formed out the rocky beginning we'd had together. I answered John anyway. "Yes John?"

_Tammy. You need to get back here, now._

"John, I'm fine honest."

_Fine!_ John was hopping mad. I fought back a laugh of an image in my mind. John's head was attached to a rabbit's body, talking into a cell phone, naturally the rabbit was angry and hopping madly. _Look, it's dangerous to your health._

"I'm fine John." I said. "You know Sherlock, he has nothing but my safety in mind. I took my medication and I haven't tried anything crazy."

_You say Sherlock has nothing but your safety in mind. I suppose he had that in mind when he locked us in that bloody lab?_ My head shot up and I wondered if I'd heard John. _He had your safety in mind then?_

"Could you repeat that again please John? I could have sworn you just said that Sherlock locked you and I in that lab in Baskerville."

_That's what I said._

Anger mounted up in me and my fingers dug into the phone. "John Hamish Watson, you better be lying to me!"

_I'm not._ John sounded nervous now._ Look, calm down Tammy._

"I am calm!" I snapped out. "I've never been calmer in my life!"

"Tammy," Sherlock said calmly. "you should take that phone call outside."

"You shut up!" I shouted at him and Sherlock jumped, letting me know I had him off guard.

He frowned. "What?"

"Mr. Sherlock….whatever-your-middle-name is Holmes, you've got some explaining to do now! And I do mean now!"

"Explain what?"

"John says that you locked us in that lab in Baskerville!" Sherlock looked guilty and my mouth dropped open. "Oh my God!"

Sally backed away. "I'll give you two a minute."

"Thank you. Might want to make it five minutes though."

Sherlock strode towards me and took my phone. "Thanks John. Couldn't keep your mouth shut could you?" He hung up, shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at me. "Can we discuss this later?"

"No!"

"Will you at least calm down? You're coughing now."

He handed me my inhaler. "Don't even think about smoothing talking me, because it won't work."

"Don't bet on it."

"Now," I demanded firmly. "did you or didn't lock John and I in a lab and frighten the daylights out of us? I know John doesn't lie, but I'm willing to be open in this case since he wants me back in the hospital. But you better answer me honestly! And don't you lie because I will have Mycroft ask Major Barrymore himself!"

Sherlock nodded. "Yes. I did."

My mouth fell open. "Sherlock! I was scared to death!"

"You were perfectly safe."

"I didn't feel safe!" I stared at him. "I can't believe it! you actually locked John and I inside that…haunted house of a lab!"

"I had to, it was an experiment."

"Experiment!" I shrieked. "I am not an experiment!" Sherlock tried to shush me as everyone looked towards us. "Don't you shush me! I was terrified to death! And you wonder I almost died after having to endure that frightening endeavor!" I snapped my finger. "No wonder I thought I was tasting an apology on your lips!"

"Do keep your voice down, this is a crime scene!"

"Says the man who can show up at Buckingham Palace wearing only a sheet over his birthday suit!"

"I thought the drug was in the sugar." He hissed. "You were in totally scientific, sanitary, safe, laboratory conditions."

"You make me sound like a rat. The dog growling," I demanded. "how did you do that?"

"A recording over a loud speaker."

I moaned. "I can't believe this! Why?"

"I knew what effect the drug had on a superior mind so I needed to try it on an average one." I groaned. "You know what I mean."

"I know what you mean, but it wasn't in the sugar."

"Yeah, well, how was I to know that you weren't exposed to the gas? I found that out _after _the experiment!" He reminded me.

"So you got it wrong?" I asked.

Sherlock responded instantly. "No."

I glowered at him and crossed my arms. "You were wrong. It wasn't in the sugar." I snarled. "You got it wrong."

Sherlock leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "A bit. Won't happen again."

"Say it." I said.

"Say what?"

"You know _exactly _what I want to hear you say if you expect me to talk to you again, much less allow you to put your hands on me again!"

Sherlock exhaled. "Sorry."

"Try it again."

"I'm sorry."

"Getting warmer." I sing-songed. "Try again."

Sherlock pulled me into his arms. "Tammy, dearest, I am _so _sorry, I will never frighten you to death again."

I laughed and hugged him. "Wrong tone of voice, but you're getting there. Now, get back to work."

"How can I go back to work when you threaten to never speak to me again, or even be allowed to touch?"

I laughed and gave him a shove. "Go on!" Sherlock grinned and trotted off obediently. "But if you _ever _do that, I will give John and Lestrade full permission to shoot you!"

* * *

**For Papermemate, I would have responded to by PM, but your account wouldn't let me. I am terribly flattered that you started reading my fic yesterday and caught up today! This chapter is for you! Thank you for that lovely review as well, I really appreciated it.**

**And t****hanks to everyone who's following, reviewing and reading. **


	41. 41: 'The hat' photograph

Chapter forty-one

'The hat' photograph

* * *

_A month later,_

* * *

I awoke later with Sherlock beside me, he was still asleep and I smiled as I studied him. He was naked under the covers, as was I, his eyes were closed shut, his hair was a tousled mess and he had an arm wrapped around my waist. Even though he was sleeping, his grip was still tight. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Sherlock's eyes opened and I smiled. "Good morning."

"Morning." He ran his hand down my cheek. "How do you feel?"

I smiled. "Wonderful."

We'd been practically starved from any physical affection for the longest time. Sherlock had insisted on waiting a full week after my recover, to ensure that my body could endure the passion that he intended to drown me in. So when that week of abstention was over, Sherlock and I practically attacked each other.

After recovering the Reichenbach painting, the cases came flooding in. Sherlock and I had our own separate jobs, so we'd see each other either at night or through texts until the case was solved. We promised not to call each other unless it was absolutely necessary. As a result, my phone would go off in the middle of a show and I'd have to pause and take his call. Most of the time, it was a riddle and he'd ask me to think about it and I always could. This always entertained the audience, because as far as they knew, we were still dating.

The newspapers didn't know When Sherlock and I married, Sherlock had insisted that John keep that piece of information out of his blog. Sherlock wanted me to have as much privacy as possible. He also didn't want to think of me getting mobbed by reporters every night after a show. I kept my maiden name as my stage name and no one thought anything about my rings on my person. I had my promise ring next to my wedding band. I was an entertainer, so for me to wear more than one piece of jewelry wasn't unusual.

"Sore?"

"A little, but I loved it. You were excellent, as always."

Sherlock bobbed his head. "Thank you." I laughed lightly. "John was right you know. We definitely should have finished our honeymoon."

"People needed your help and I don't mind sharing you."

"Yes, but I do wonder if you mind our very physical relationship at times. After all, we don't see each other for a day or two and then the instant I have a night free, I can't seem to keep my hands off you." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Not that you seem to mind any, but, I do wonder if you mind."

"If I minded Sherlock, you'd know." I assured him. "The idea that you would be just using my body, never crossed my mind at all. Thank you for being considerate in that area. At times though, I have wondered at your skill, since I'm the only woman you've had to practice on."

"Don't be silly Tammy, there are plenty of books on the subject." He stated. "Besides, I'm well aware of how the human body works. I happen to know your body like a map, I know exactly how your body responds and I know exactly what it likes." I blushed and bit my lip. "Just as you know every time you bite your lip it drives me crazy." Sherlock kissed me right as my phone went off. "Don't answer it." He whined. "Please?"

I reached for it on the nightstand and answered it anyway. "Hello?"

Sherlock groaned. "Can't you do what I ask?"

"Tammy?" It was Sally. "My shift ends at two today, do you still want to help me refurbish my apartment?"

"Yes. Uhh," Sherlock began kissing my neck and I fought to keep my voice even. "what time is it now?"

Sally was quiet for a moment. "You're with Sherlock aren't you?"

I blushed and let out a quiet shriek as he nibbled at my neck. "Yes! Sorry. Sherlock!" I hissed. "I'm on the phone!"

"People shouldn't go around calling married couples when they're in bed together!"

He said it loud enough for Sally to hear and she now sounded so uncomfortable now. "Sorry. It's uhm, 11:30."

"And?" Sherlock's hand slid between my legs and I let out a shriek as he thrust his finger deep inside me. "God! Sorry Sally!" I was so embarrassed now. "Sherlock, stop it! I mean it!" Sherlock pouted and rolled back on his back. "I am so sorry Sally!"

Sally stammered. "I guess I should remind you that Sherlock and john have to be down here for the press conference we're holding at 12:00."

"Right! I'd forgotten!" I bolted upright, hitting Sherlock's chin with my shoulder. He let out a grunt. "Sorry! He'll be there, on time! I promise! Bye!" I hung up and jumped out of bed, went straight for my dresser. "Sherlock, get dressed!"

"What on earth for?" He said as he lounged back on the bed. "It's Saturday, and I've got nothing going on."

"Except a press conference."

"Boring."

"Sherlock!" I said. "I promised Sally you'd be there on time for a change."

Sherlock glowered at me. "You promised Sally?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, in that case, God forbid you break your promise to Sally." He got out of bed, grabbing his robe and walked over to me. "And why are you talking to Sally? Last time I remember, you were pulling out her hair!"

"Oh, we're kinda friends now." I pulled on a set of undergarments and went towards the closet. "What are you wearing? Never mind, I know, purple!"

"Actually, I was thinking of wearing that green shirt you got me."

I straightened and stared him. "You must want something out of me. What is it?"

"You."

I shook my head. "I should have known. You can have me later, I promise. Now, go get dressed!"

Sherlock sulked and stomped downstairs to get dressed. I grabbed a green dress and hurriedly got dressed. I shimmied into the dress, it was a plain dress, but I felt sexy in it. I brushed my hair, applied some lipstick, grabbed a pair of black heels and then hurried down the stairs.

I opened Sherlock's flat and bumped into John, he was all ready to go. "Hello Tammy." He nodded approvingly. "You look beautiful, as always."

"Thank you John." I headed towards Sherlock's bedroom. "Sherlock, are you ready?"

"Yes." He groused and I opened the door to see him fixing his coat so the lapels lay just right. He turned towards me and smirked. True to his word, he was wearing that deep green shirt, and he looked smoking hot in that color. He stepped towards me, his voice husky. "You look so….resplendent this morning."

I smiled. "Thank you." He kissed me and I inhaled his cologne. But once his hands began to wander, I pulled away. "Sherlock, you've got to be there in ten minutes."

He didn't let me free though. "I will cover you with love when I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy. I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh, so that you faint or die." I closed my eyes and just listened to him. Dear God, that voice could cause me to melt into a pile of butter! "I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you never even dreamed of such transports. When you are old, I want you to recall those few hours; I want your dry bones to quiver with joy when you think of them."

"I'm sure I will Sherlock." I trembled and licked my lips. "That was beautiful. Who wrote that?"

"Gustave Flaubert to Louise Colet."

"And how were they together?" I asked quietly. "Did they live and love happily ever after?"

Sherlock shook his head. "She was his lover, he wasn't faithful though and they never married."

I shook my head sadly. "And he could write such beautiful words to her, but he couldn't love her for all eternity?"

Sherlock's brows knitted. "I've made you sad."

"Not really. But, could you quote something to me about a couple who were married, and lived happily ever after?"

"Ok." He closed his eyes and searched his mind. "I swear to you, were we not married I would beg you on my knees to be my wife, which I could not do, did I not esteem you, as well as I love you. John Churchill, to his wife Sarah."

"I definitely approve of that quote."

"What are you going to be doing while I'm gone?"

"I actually have a hair appointment."

Sherlock frowned. "Don't cut your hair!"

"I won't. I promise." I kissed him. "Now, go, John's waiting for you."

Sherlock frowned. "You seem rather excited to get me out of the house."

"Yes, I want you to get this over and done with now, so, I don't have to worry about you. Go!"

"You're not meeting someone are you?" Sherlock asked. "And don't lie to me, because I'll find out!"

I laughed. "Sherlock, you are so funny!" I walked out of the bedroom shaking my head. "I'd never cheat on you! Besides, you'd know the instant if I did."

John smiled at us. "You two look nice, actually color coordinated."

I nodded. "Sherlock's wearing the shirt I bought him. He looks nice in this color."

"How about a photo?" Sherlock suggested.

"You're stalling," I said. "but, I like the idea. John, do you mind? I don't think we actually have many photos together, outside of our wedding ones."

He shook his head. "No. uhm, how about in front of the fireplace?"

I nodded and moved towards the fireplace. Sherlock stepped in behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I smiled as John snapped several pictures. I then felt Sherlock's lips in my neck and I closed my eyes and turned towards him slightly.

"Oh, that definitely a good one." John said.

I pulled away. "You two, go, now, before Sherlock convinces me to let him stay." I kissed his cheek. "Now be a good little boy and behave."

Sherlock groaned. "Phone ahead and tell Sally and Andersen to behave! There's nothing wrong with me!"

* * *

I came up the stairs an hour later with my hair styled a little differently. It had been trimmed and Sherlock would be bound to notice. But I liked it; it showed off my face and eyes more now.

"Boffin!" Sherlock definitely sounded agitated about something. "Boffin Sherlock Holmes!"

"What's a boffin, Sherlock?" I asked innocently as I came into the door.

"A scientific expert, especially one involved in research," he explained. "who is regarded as being unconventional or absent-minded."

"You are anything but absent-minded." I frowned. "Who called you that?"

"Everybody gets one." John said.

"One what?"

"Tabloid nickname. Shouldn't worry," John said as he browsed through the tabloid newspaper. "I'll probably get one soon."

"Page five, column six, first sentence." Sherlock began complaining. "Why is it always 'the hat' photograph?"

It was then that I realized that Sherlock was holding 'that hat' in his hand. Well, he was punching it. "Where did you get that?"

"Oh, Lestrade gave it to me." he complained. I looked down to keep from laughing.

"Bachelor' John Watson?" John was now focused on a completely different thing. "Bachelor? What the hell are they implying?"

"What kind of hat is it anyway?" He shook the hat back and forth, examining it with a disgusted, critical eye. "Is it a cap? Why has it got two fronts?"

"It's a deerstalker." John said. "Frequently seen in the company of bachelor John Watson."

"How do you stalk a deer with a hat?" Sherlock demanded. "What are you going to do, throw it?"

" 'Confirmed' bachelor."

I chuckled as I watched Sherlock degrading the hat and John was talking about the magazine article. "Some sort of death Frisbee?"

"Okay, this is too much. We've got to be more careful."

"It's got flaps. Ear flaps! It's an 'ear' hat, John!" He threw it at John and then straightened. "What do you mean, more careful?"

"I mean, this isn't a deerstalker now, it's a Sherlock Holmes hat." Sherlock groaned. "I mean, that you're not exactly a 'private' detective any more! You're this far from famous!"

Sherlock sank onto his couch. "Oh, it'll pass."

"It better pass." John said firmly. "The press will turn, Sherlock. They always turn. And they'll turn on you."

I sat down on the edge of Sherlock's chair. He was in deep thought for the moment, so he didn't really register my presence. He turned to John. "It really bothers you."

"What?"

"What people say about me. I don't understand, why would it upset you?"

John exhaled. Sherlock was showing one of his 'stupid' moments. "Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourself a little case this week. Stay out of the news. Or," John offered. "you could announce that you're married. I can't figure out why the media doesn't know that."

"Oh, that was a mutual agreement on our side." I commented. Sherlock tugged me down into his lap. "We agreed that it'd be worth keeping it a secret."

"And it doesn't bother you that they're suggesting that…Sherlock and I…are a couple?"

I frowned. "I didn't know that."

"You don't read the tabloids?"

"No. It's a bunch of lies and nonsense anyway. So why waste my money on a bunch of lies?"

"You trimmed your hair." Sherlock observed as he absent-mindedly stroked my leg. "I asked you not to cut it."

"Sherlock, they only trimmed my hair a little. See? You can appreciated my face and eyes better now."

"Tammy," John asked. "are you two going to keep this marriage a secret forever?"

"We're definitely going to keep it a secret as long as possible." I said. "I hate publicity."

"Besides," Sherlock said. "I don't want her fighting off the reporters every night. Last thing I need to think about is her panicking and collapsing on the street."

"I won't have a panic attack if I get mobbed." I reminded him. "I haven't had an attack in a long time."

"You had one exactly, thirty-seven days ago."

I covered his mouth. "And I don't need to know the exact amount of hour, minutes and seconds as well." Sherlock sucked a corner of my palm and I dropped my hand. "And I promised that the next time you're working on a case that has to do with chemicals, I'll stay home."

"Good." My phone went off. It was Sally. Sherlock groaned. "Doesn't she ever text?"

"No." I commented as I answered it. "Hello Sally."

"Hi Tammy, I can't make it after all. Something came up."

"Don't even bother apologizing, I completely understand."

"Oh, you're used to Sherlock doing this to you."

"Constantly."

"I'll call you tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh, I won't be available until after one. I'm going down to visit the Tower of London and see the Crown Jewels."

"Oh, have fun."

"Thank you. I'll catch up with you later Sally."

Sherlock frowned. "Tower of London? That's not much fun."

I nodded. "Since I'm going to live here, I should probably get a look at some of London's site's. I haven't much time to do that."

"Well, enjoy. I've got a case, otherwise I'd join you."

I nodded. "I'll have fun."

"And be careful."

"What could possibly happen to me atthe Tower of London?"


	42. 42: London Tower falls

Chapter forty-two

London Tower falls

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shinning and everything was right with the world. Until I happened to look up at the sound of a metal detector and saw Moriarty behind me. I spun around and quickly pulled out my phone and dialed Sherlock.

I moved into the darker shadows of the vault, and to my dismay, Moriarty was following me. Sherlock finally picked up. "Tammy?" Except it was John who answered. "What's going on?"

"I don't care if he's in the middle of an experiment, you put me on speaker and hand me over to Sherlock. Now!"

"Right. Sherlock, it's Tammy."

"I know that." He said. "Explain I'm busy."

"Sherlock!" I hissed. "I'm in the vault with the crown jewels."

"I guess that the sight of them is so breathtaking it took your breath away."

"Moriarty's here."

Sherlock was silent for a long time. "Maybe he's just touring."

"No, he isn't!" I said, risking a glance over my shoulder. He was doing something weird. "He's been in London for many years. He's dressed like…a tourist."

"A tourist?" Sherlock's interest picked up. "What's he doing?"

"He's got his headphones plugged into his phone." I frowned. "He's…doing something really weird. He's…got this weird face and he's got his arms stretched out, as if he's…getting ready to…you're not going to believe me."

"Try me."

"Dance."

"Dance? Don't be ridiculous Tammy."

"I said you wouldn't believe me. He's doing something on his phone." The moment I said that, alarms started ringing loudly. "What is that?"

"This is an emergency." A voice said over the loud speaker. "Clear the vault."

I did as I was asked, I walked by Moriarty. He smirked at me and I looked away from him. Moriarty didn't follow; he acted as if he didn't hear. I looked behind me, just in time to see him spray something in the tour guide's face and knock him out!

"What's going on?'

"He just knocked out a tour guide." The vault slammed shut behind me and I followed the crowd of people outside. "He's inside the vault as we speak."

"Tammy?" Sherlock said. "I've got to hang up."

"Sherlock!" I groaned as his phone went off. I dialed John and he immediately picked up. "Does he have a reason for hanging up on me?"

"He wants to keep his line clear, in case your brother calls him."

"Moriarty doesn't have his number and he is not my brother anymore!" I said as we were hustled outside. "But whatever, Sherlock's the one with the brain and I'm not going to argue with him." I could hear the police sirens loud and clear. "Poor Greg, right on his coffee break."

"How does she know it's his coffee break?" Sherlock asked loudly.

"My business!" I snapped.

I stood on the sidelines with the other spectators as the police cars pulled up. I saw Lestrade, Sally and a dozen other faces and several SWAT team members pull up as well. I stood there, communicating with John about everything that was going on around us. John also then informed me that, according to Twitter and the all the breaking news that the Bank of England was broken into and Pentonville prison as well! Evidentially, all done by Moriarty at the same time, with just his phone! John and I were freaking out while Sherlock was calm as a cucumber during the whole exchange.

Minutes seemed to stretch into hours for me and then I saw the police leading Moriarty out of the building, handcuffed. He smiled at me when we made eye contact. I ducked my head and looked towards Sally and Lestrade.

It was Sally who caught sight of me and she walked towards me. "I didn't know you were still here!"

I nodded. "I've been giving Sherlock details over the phone."

"Are you ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine! I just can't ever seem to get a vacation. So what did Moriarty want? Any ideas?"

"No." Her eyes flashed. "Moriarty? How'd you know his name is Moriarty?"

"Because I happen to have the extreme misfortune of knowing him." I glanced towards the car he was in and shot him a glare. "He's like Sherlock, except he fights on the side of the devil. You'd do the whole world a huge favor if you just killed him now and saved everyone the trouble."

Sally looked floored. "Oh, I don't know how you get involved in these things."

"I think it's because I married a Holmes." I groaned. "Mystery latches onto that family name it won't let go."

* * *

From that day forward, the newspapers were filled with photos of Moriarty. I wasn't called to testify, and I was grateful about that. Sherlock was slightly upset that he'd been called to testify. He didn't say anything, but I could tell he was upset because he didn't complain about 'the hat' photographs that were all over every magazine cover. I didn't know what game Moriarty was playing, but it must be a serious.

I woke the morning of the trial, nervous enough to get sick. I got up and dressed. I'd chosen a deep purple, pinstripe, dress suit to wear. I didn't eat anything that day, I couldn't eat anything. I went down to the flat to find Sherlock and John were putting on their coats.

"Anyone hungry?" I asked.

"No." they replied in unison.

"Ok."

John studied me. "You ok?"

I shook my head. "Not really. I'll be fine once this is over."

Sherlock walked up to me and pulled me into a hug. I closed my eyes as he rubbed my shoulders and gently swayed me back and forth. "You'll be fine." He murmured in my ear. "You're three times the lady and you're definitely going to be the sexiest woman in the courtroom." I shouldn't smile at his words, but I did. Sherlock tilted my chin up and he nodded when he saw I was smiling up at him. "Good. Let's go."

We trotted down the stairs and paused at the door. Sherlock stopped and readied himself for the mob. "Ready?"

Sherlock nodded curtly. "Yeah."

"You get in first." I said. "That way you're not showing me any favors."

Sherlock nodded. John opened the door and I followed behind Sherlock. The police were doing their best to keep the curious mob at bay. Sherlock opened the door and climbed in. I got in after him and closed the door. Once John was in, the police car pulled away in the direction of the Old Bailey courthouse.

Sherlock patted me. "Crawl over me and let me have the window seat."

"Sure." I obliged him and John steadied me as I crawled over Sherlock. "You're welcome." Sherlock nodded, but he didn't thank me. I fell into John's lap and he helped me sit up right. "Thank you John."

"You're welcome." John said. "Sherlock, remember?"

Sherlock cut John off. "Yes."

"Remember," he said patiently. "what they told you, don't try to be clever." Sherlock, I knew at this point, wasn't paying any attention to John. "And please just keep it simple and brief."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "God forbid the star witness at the trial should come across as intelligent."

"Intelligent, fine." John advised. "Let's give smart arse a wide berth."

Sherlock paused for a moment before looking out the window. "I'll just be myself."

John blinked. "Are you listening to me?"

I glanced at Sherlock and shook my head. "He's in his own world at the moment John, best to let him be."

"But Tammy, he must be made aware of these things."

"He's Sherlock Holmes." I said quietly as I played with my nails. "I can't ask him to be anything less than he is."

Sherlock reached into his pocket and handed me my MP3 player. "Here. Thought you'd want this."

"Thank you. I thought I'd lost it."

"It was in the bed covers."

I smiled faintly. "I married you to help me find my MP3 player."

"Turn it on."

I nodded and turned it on to see it was at 'our' song, 'She's always a woman' from our one and only 'real' date. I put my earbuds in, leaned back, closed my eyes and focused on that day, instead of the day that I was living at the moment.

the courthouse, was directly across from Bart's Morgue, which was rather ironic. Sherlock, john and I sat around outside for a bit. Melissa Manchester's rendition of 'Don't cry out loud' was exceptionally beautiful today. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the music and the lyrics. Then I felt John nudging me. "Tammy? We've been summoned."

I took out my ear buds and stood up. "I should probably freshen up."

"The loo's that way." John pointed down the hall.

"Thank you." I frowned. "Where's Sherlock?"

"He went the same direction, you're going."

"Thanks."

I walked down to the lady's bathroom, yeah, I know it's called a loo in London. But every time I hear the word loo, I think of Lou Costello! Besides, I've been calling it a bathroom for all of my life, I can't change that part of my vocabulary now. I eyed my reflection in the mirror and I decided that I looked fine.

I exited at the same time Sherlock came out of the men's room. He looked exasperated, I frowned as I approached him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He bit out. "Unwanted guest." He took my arm. "Let's go."

I looked behind his shoulder to see a woman exit the men's bathroom! She had her red hair in pigtails, but the thing that caught my attention was her shirt. It was unbuttoned a bit low and revealing a bit of cleavage. My eyes bulged. "Did she just-

"Later Tammy." He said. "Nothing happened."

"I know that." I said softly. "I trust you. Was she a reporter?"

"She _wants_ to be reporter." He said shortly. "There's a difference."

I nodded. Something was really bothering him, I didn't know what. "I'll just shut up now, then."

Sherlock stopped and studied me. "You're really not ok. Your pulse is racing and you're not even going to speak. What is it?""

I shook my head. "It's just…this whole thing, Sherlock. I know, I've pushed him out of my life and he's not my brother to me anymore but….the bond, it hasn't completely broken yet."

"I see."

"I wish I had your nerves of steel."

"You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for." He said firmly. "Believe me Tammy, you're one of the strongest women I know. Emotional, but when it really counts, you're strong."

I smiled feebly. "Thank you. Those were exactly the words that I needed to hear at this moment."

"Good." He turned towards John. "I'll see the two of you later."

"And don't forget," John reminded him. "give smart arse a wide berth."

I rubbed Sherlock's shoulder. "Just be yourself, but a polite version."

Sherlock smirked. "You heard the lady John." He kissed me quickly. "Thank you." And with that, he turned and walked into the courtroom.

I shook my head. "Show off."

"Ahh, but he is a show off. That's what he does, remember?" I laughed quietly with John. "Come on, let's find some good seats in the gallery."


	43. 43: All part of the game

Chapter forty-three

All part of the game

"A consulting criminal?"

"Yes."

The prosecuting Barrister glanced at Sherlock. "Your words. Can you expand on that answer?"

Sherlock nodded. "James Moriarty is for hire."

"A tradesman?"

"Yes." He sneered.

"But not the sort who'd fix your heating?"

"No, the sort who'd plant a bomb or stage an assassination. But I'm sure he'd make a decent job of your boiler."

Everyone chuckled and the Barrister attempted to remove the humor from the air. "Would you describe him as-

Sherlock interrupted. "Leading."

"What?"

"Can't do that." Sherlock stated. "You're leading the witness. He'll object and the judge will uphold."

The judge looked surprised. "Mr. Holmes!"

Sherlock ignored him. "Ask me _how_. _How_ would I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him? Do they not teach you this?"

"Mr. Holmes," the judge said. "we're fine without your help.

The Barrister continued. "How would you describe this man? His character?"

"First mistake. James Moriarty isn't a man at all." Sherlock said slowly, dangerously, as he held eye contact with Moriarty. "He's a spider. A spider at the center of a web. A criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances."

The Barrister cleared her throat uncomfortably. "And how long-

"No, no. Don't, don't do that." Sherlock said. "That's really not a good question."

The judge obviously couldn't believe that Sherlock was actually doing this. "Mr. Holmes!

"How long have I known him? Not really your best line of enquiry." He glanced at the Barrister before turning back to Moriarty. "We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun, he tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something."

I shook my head as the judge spoke. "Miss Sorrel, are you seriously claiming this man is an expert? After knowing the accused for just _five_ minutes?"

I really decided that I didn't like this judge, he spoke with a sneer. Sherlock was quick to respond eager to defend his reputation. "Two minutes would have made me an expert. Five was ample."

"Mr. Holmes, that's a matter for the jury!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Oh, really?" Sherlock glanced up at John and I in the balcony. I shook my head silently, begging him not to do what I knew he was going to do. His eyes darted towards the jury and I saw immediately what was coming.

I groaned. "Oh no." Here we go."

"One librarian, two teachers, two high-pressure jobs, probably the City. Foreman's a medical secretary, trained abroad, judging by her shorthand."

The judge was shocked. "Mr. Holmes!"

But Sherlock was on a roll and there was no shutting him up. "Seven are married and two are having an affair, with each other, it would seem." I groaned. "Oh, and they've just had tea and biscuits. Would you like to know who ate the wafer?"

Now the judge had lost his all of his patience. "Mr. Holmes!" He snapped. "You've been called here to answer Miss Sorrel's questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual prowess." Sherlock face was practically screaming, "Not interested in what anyone else cares" and nobody except me was seeing that. "Keep your answers brief and to the point. Anything else will be treated as contempt. Do you think you could survive for just a few minutes without SHOWING OFF?"

I saw that light come into Sherlock's eyes and knew the Judge had sunk the Titanic with that question. "No, he can't." I moaned as I rested my face in my hands as Sherlock then proceeded to deduce the Judge. I shook my head and tried not to laugh, but my shaking shoulders told me I was failing miserably. The judge had Sherlock arrested for contempt of court and he was hauled away. I shook my head at Sherlock as he looked up towards the balcony. He merely smirked and winked at me.

"I'm gonna kill him."

"If he doesn't get the upper hand first." John said quietly.

I blushed. "You surprise me with your wit from time to time John and this was one of those times."

John and I sat throughout the trail; Sherlock would definitely want details. I watched Moriarty; he stood there, like a gargoyle statue. No emotion, except he'd give me an occasional lazy smile that would churn my stomach. As I sat there, my mind began to wander. Then, curiosity began to overwhelm me. There was something wrong with this picture.

He was smart enough not to get caught during the bombing incident. So why do something like this? I looked at Jim. I looked at him hard and his lawyer. His lawyer hadn't stirred once. In fact, the lawyer looked bored. Why? He was facing serious charges, but he didn't look concerned at all. In fact, why did he let himself get caught? He was clever enough to avoid being arrested. If Sherlock were going to pull a stunt like this, he'd have covered his tracks. Why? Why do something stupid like this unless you all ready had a plan in mind? Then, the answer was obvious to me.

"He's going to go free." I murmured to myself.

"Sorry?" John whispered. "What?"

"He's going to get off, Scott free." I repeated. "I don't know how, but it's obvious. He's going to walk out of here tomorrow a free man." I ran my hand through my hair. "I know it."

"Tammy." John said. "That's impossible. The guilt is staring all of them in the face."

I stood up. "I'm wasting time. I'm going to go spring Sherlock."

"They probably haven't even posted bail yet."

"Then I'll go wait."

I had to wait a while to complete the necessary paperwork and wait for the money to go through. Sherlock's bail was as high as if I'd bought him ten years worth of birthday and Christmas presents. I made a mental note to ask John when Sherlock's birthday was. I could ask Sherlock, but then I'd have to admit that I didn't know when his birthday was and I wasn't going to do that!

About fifty minutes later, Sherlock was escorted out. He frowned at me. "Took you long enough!"

I smiled at him as he walked up to me, adjusting his coat. "Hello."

"Don't go saying, 'I told you so' Tammy."

"I'm not." I said placing a hand on my hip. "I just figured that you deliberately wanted to investigate the cells or something like that." He tilted his head and I smiled. "Sorry. I should have had a bet with John that you'd get thrown in prison for contempt of court, I'd have won."

"There you two are!" John said as he approached us. "I bet you cost Tammy a pretty penny!"

"She can afford it." Sherlock stated. "Haven't you heard? I married her for her money."

"And did you hear what I said earlier? What did I say?" John asked. "I said, "Don't get clever."

Sherlock reached for the bag of his confiscated belongings. "I can't just turn it off and on like a tap."

"He can't John."

"Stop defending him Tammy," John said. "you're going to spoil him and he's going to make a habit of acting up as long as you stick around to clean up his messes."

I rolled my eyes. "I like Sherlock the way he is, it keeps life interesting."

Sherlock smirked and we all walked out of the room. John talked non-stop all the way back to the flat, giving Sherlock all the details. Both men discussed the trial to great length and Sherlock nodded with the few things John was saying.

My head ached. I kicked off my heels, closed my eyes, rubbed my head, and tried to absorb everything that happened today. "You ok?" John asked. "Headache?"

I nodded. "Yes, but its not too bad. Just…too many memories."

Sherlock began his pacing back and forth, his hands folded in prayer under his nose and he was wearing 'that face' of his again. John sank down into the chair and sighed. "Don't do that."

Sherlock frowned. "Do what?"

"The look."

"Look?"

"You are doing 'the look' again."

I laughed quietly as Sherlock made a face. "I can't see it, can I?" John indicated that he look at the mirror and Sherlock did as John asked, but his expression changed. "It's my face."

"Yes, and it's doing a thing." John pointed out. "You're doing a 'we both know what's really going on here' face."

"Well, we do."

"No, I don't, which is why I find 'the face' so annoying." He stated. "Tammy made a statement earlier that Moriarty is going to go free tomorrow afternoon. So the two of you obviously know something, so why do you mind sharing it with the rest of the class?"

"If Moriarty wanted the jewels he'd have them. If he wanted those prisoners free they'd be out on the streets." He pointed out. "The only reason he's still in a prison cell right now is because he chose to be there. Somehow this is part of his scheme."

"But how? I wondered as I ran my hand through my hair. "And why?"

Sherlock sat on the armrest beside me. "It's part of the game Tammy," he looked above, beyond and through the wall in thought. "and it hasn't even begun yet."


	44. 44: Why inflict pain?

Chapter forty-four

Why inflict pain?

The following day, we waited for the grand announcement about Moriarty's fate. Neither of us had even bothered to get dressed. Sherlock sat in his chair, not speaking a single word. Moriarty wouldn't offer any defense and the jury would declare him not guilty. I sat reading a book, or at least that's what I said I was doing. I hadn't turned a single page in the last two hours and I'd been checking my cellphone constantly for any news from John.

It was 11:25, and Sherlock began speaking quietly and hoarsely. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, James Moriarty stands accused several counts of attempted burglary, crimes which, if he is found guilty, must elicit a very long custodial sentence, and yet, his legal team, has chosen to offer no evidence whatsoever, to support their plea. I find myself in the unusual position of recommending a verdict wholeheartedly. You must find him guilty. Guilty."

Those were the last words spoken by him and us. Ten minutes later, Sherlock's phone rang. He reached for it and put it on speaker. "Not guilty!" John was irritated and upset. "Just like you two said. They found him not guilty! No defense and Moriarty's walked free." I looked at Sherlock. His face was calm and absorbent. He wasn't listening to John anymore and I sincerely doubt that he was aware that I was in the room. "Sherlock, are you listening? He's out. You know, he'll be coming after you two. Sherlock."

Sherlock hung up on john, he didn't say anything to me, but he didn't have to. I knew everything that was going on in his head that moment. He went to his room to get dressed and I went upstairs to my flat to get dressed as well. We met downstairs, both wearing casual clothes. Sherlock had the water boiling and was preparing tea. I knew he was expecting Moriarty.

I didn't disturb him as I went to the cupboard and pulled out the cookie car that held cookies I'd made a few days ago. I put them on a plate and added them to tea tray. As I pulled away, Sherlock caught my hand. "You don't have to be here."

"I won't say a word." I said quietly. "Whatever you face, I will face."

I expected him to argue with me about this, but he didn't. But I guess the words from my marriage vow hit him harder than I thought, he simply nodded. "Better find something to occupy your mind."

"I'll read."

He shook his head. "You're not a great reader under pressure, you haven't gotten beyond page 1 on 'Great Expectations' since you sat down."

I nodded. "Then I'll do the dishes. You and John, thankfully, let them stack up a bit."

"Fine." Sherlock nodded and walked away from me. I began searching the cabinets for dirty dishes and I was not disappointed. There were several pans that had spots that hadn't been cleaned properly. Sherlock strode back into the room with his violin and he frowned. "Surely, those all can't be dirty.'

"Yes they are."

"I cleaned them myself."

"You're not used to cleaning dishes." Sherlock began playing his violin and I asked. "What's piece are you playing?"

"Sonata No.1 for Solo Violin in G, by Bach."

I didn't say anything as he played. I listened to Sherlock play as I filled the sink with soapy water and began scrubbing at the dishes. I glanced at the clock and it was now 12:00. Sherlock paused playing for a moment, before continuing. Then, after several moments, he stopped playing again, then he spoke.

"Most people knock, but then you aren't most people I suppose." I paused from where I was washing the dishes and turned towards Sherlock. "Kettle's just boiled."

"Johann Sebastian would be appalled." To my dismay, Moriarty was walking in the room. He glanced at me and smiled. "Pleased to see you as well. Surprised you haven't cleaned this place up since you two married." He gestured towards Sherlock's chair. "May I?" I didn't answer him, Sherlock nodded at him though. "You know when he was on his deathbed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces." Sherlock calmly poured the tea. "The boy stopped before he got to the end."

"Then the dying man jumped out of bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it."

"Couldn't cope with an unfinished melody."

"Neither can you, that's why you've come."

"But be honest. You're just a tiny bit pleased."

"What, with the verdict?" Sherlock handed Moriarty his tea and I wondered if there'd been a way to slip poison in Moriarty's without him noticing. "Even Tammy saw that coming."

"With me, back on the streets." I made a face as I listened to this unusual conversation going on between them. Sherlock turned back and began fixing his tea. "Every fairy tale needs a good old fashioned villain. You need me, or you're nothing. Because we're just alike, you and I. Except you're boring." I bit my lip and concentrated on scrubbing a pan. "You're on the side of the angels."

"Got to the jury of course."

"I got into the Tower of London. You think I can't worm my way into twelve hotel rooms?"

"Cable network."

"Every bedroom has a personalized TV screen. And every person has their pressure point. Someone that they want to protect from harm. Easy, peasy."

"So how are you going to do it?" Sherlock asked, with a slight tone of mockery in his voice. "Burn me?"

"Oh that's the problem, the final problem. Have you worked out what it is yet?" Sherlock was silent. "What's the final problem? I did tell you. But did you listen?" Again, Sherlock didn't respond to him. For a moment, they just sat there, studying each other. The only sounds that could be heard were from me washing, rinsing and stacking the dishes. "How hard do you find it? Having to say, I don't know?"

Sherlock set his cup of tea aside. "I don't know."

"Oh that's clever. That's very clever. Awfully clever. Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?"

"Told them what?"

"Why I broke into all those places and never took anything?"

"No."

"But you understand."

"Obviously."

"Off you go then."

"You want me to tell you what you already know?"

"No, I want you to prove that you know it. Besides, Tammy might be interested."

"You didn't take anything because you don't need to."

"Good."

"You'll never need to take anything ever again."

"Very good. Because?"

"Because nothing," Sherlock declared. "nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London or Pentonville Prison could possibly match the value of the key that could get you in to all three."

"I can open any door anywhere with a few tiny lines of computer code. No such thing as a private bank account now, they're all mine. No such thing as secrecy. I _own_ secrecy. Nuclear codes. I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order." My skin crawled, this man, was insane. "In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king, and honey, you should see me in a crown."

I mere image made my flesh crawl. He wouldn't be a king on a throne, he would be a tyrant. "You were advertising all the way through the trial." Sherlock said calmly. "You were showing the world what you can do."

"And you were helping. Big client list. Rogue governments. Intelligence communities. Terror cells. They all want me. Suddenly, I'm Mr. Sex." I dried my hands and turned and leaned my back against the counter, watching the exchange. "Well, except to Tammy. Obviously, you're Mr. Sex to her."

"You could break any bank." Sherlock changed the subject. "What do you care about the highest bidder?"

"I don't. I just like to watch them all competing. "Daddy loves me the best!" Aren't ordinary people adorable? Well you know, you've got John." Sherlock frowned at him. "Well, you got married, but then I suppose that was the only way to get Tammy into bed with you." I bit my lip and dug my hands into the counter. "I should get myself a live-in one too."

I don't know how Sherlock kept his tone calm and even, but I admired him for it. "Leave Tammy out of this and get back onto the subject."

"Oh, touchy!" He said. "Don't tell me you actually started to care about her after you bedded her?"

Sherlock ignored his remark. "Why are you doing all of this?"

"It'd be so funny."

"You don't want money or power, not really." Sherlock asked pointedly. "What is it all for?"

"I want to solve the problem, our problem. The final problem." He ducked his head. "It's going to start very soon, Sherlock. The fall." He whistled, from high to low. "But don't be scared. Falling's just like flying except there's a more permanent destination."

Sherlock straightened and buttoned his coat. "Never liked riddles."

"Learn to because I owe you a fall, Sherlock. And Tammy won't always be around to solve riddles for you." I stood there watching him as he spoke slowly. "I. O. U." he started to walk past me, but he stopped for some reason and stepped towards me. he looked me up and down. "Thought you'd be pregnant by now, considering he can't keep his hands off you." I held his gaze and didn't say a word. "But then, I know that your mother had a hard time getting pregnant. Maybe you're barren."

Those words hurt, but I refused to let him know that. I kept my tone calm and even. "Then it's a good thing Sherlock and I didn't marry for sex as you put it. You're jealous." He laughed and rolled his head. "Because no matter what you do, you will never, ever, have what Sherlock and I share. And in that dark, twisted mind of yours, you know that. We have trust and you cannot trust anyone in your line of business." He glowered at me. "The door is that way."

Moriarty studied me. "You'll be sorry."

"Oh believe me," I said. "I all ready am. I've cursed the day I met you and the day you were spawned from Hell." His brows rose in amusement at my harsh words. "Now….get out." I didn't get hysterical; I was angry and hurt. I withheld his gaze and he finally turned and slowly stalked out of the room. I exhaled as he closed the door behind him. I went straight toward the tray and picked it up. "I'll just wash these." I deliberately avoided eye contact as I moved to wash the dishes.

I began washing the dishes with vigor and I felt Sherlock behind me. I felt his hands on my shoulders as he turned me around to face him. He handed me a towel. "Those can wait."

I took the rag and dried my hands. I then wrapped my arms around my waist tightly. "I can't believe I'm related to him."

"Technically, you're not." He pointed out. "You don't even have the same birth parents. You're related through paper, not blood."

I exhaled. "Thank you for pointing that out."

"He hurt you." Sherlock said as he rubbed my shoulder.

I shook my head. "I'm fine Sherlock. Honest."

"You're worried."

I nodded. "Yes, I am."

"There's nothing for you to be worried about. I'll be fine."

I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I know you say you can take care of yourself, but I can still worry can't I? I'm your wife, I love you and even though I'll never hear you say those words to me, I know you love me too. I don't want anything to happen to you! I need you, but more importantly, every person in trouble out there needs you."

Sherlock nodded in agreement with me. "I never thought about it that way. You make it sound like everyone needs me, and while that maybe true," he rubbed my chin with his thumb. "it should comfort you to know that I just need you."

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. Moriarty said, he'd burn the heart out of you. Did he know all along that you were going marry me? Was this all part of his plan? Because if he hurts me, he'll get to you and he knows it. What better way to burn someone than by hurting the one that someone loves deeply?"

Sherlock shrugged. "Let's not jump to conclusion. He'd have to get to you first."

I frowned at him. "You don't seemed worried about my safety."

"I'm not. I've had Mycroft have several plainclothes men follow you for a while."

I stared him. "For how long?"

"Not very long, you're perfectly safe."

"Until someone shoots me."

Sherlock shook his head doubtfully. "Not his style. After all, you are his sister. You both don't acknowledge it, but the bond, it's still there regardless."

"It hurts Sherlock." I whispered. "Why, do people have to hurt people so much? What's the point? Why do they get such a pleasure out of hurting people? And for what? the reason is never good enough."

"I have an answer for almost everything Tammy, except those questions. God alone knows the answer to that mystery that man has endeavored to solve forever. Maybe someday, He can answer that for you."


	45. 45: By all means Mr Holmes

Chapter forty-five

By all means Mr. Holmes

The next few days were awkward. Sherlock was in his mind palace, I didn't want to talk or do anything. In fact, I just sat around, read book, and I didn't feel like doing anything. Moriarty had cast a shadow over the flat and we were just simply living under it. Sherlock and I weren't talking about it and I didn't know how to approach him, mainly because he wasn't familiar with such feelings.

It was a rainy day, I lay in front of the fireplace reading pride and prejudice. I was at the part where Elizabeth was rejecting Darcy's proposal, and I was loosing interest. I closed the book and rolled over on my side.

"I don't know what's wrong with her." Sherlock's voice filtered up through the floor vent. I knew I shouldn't listen, but I didn't really care.

"She's hurting Sherlock." John said calmly. "Her brother, just threatened her life and her husband's life. Did you expect her to be prancing around here as happy as can be?"

"I thought she'd get over it."

"Because you're an idiot." John said and I smirked.

I could just see "Sherlock glowering at john. "What should I do?"

"You're her husband, you know her better than anyone else."

"And you've had more relationships than I have." Sherlock said. "Give me an idea."

"Do something special for her. Take her mind off things."

I could just see Sherlock shaking his head. "She'd wonder what I was up to."

"And if you romanced your wife more often, she wouldn't be so suspicious."

"Tammy and I are as sexually active as the-

"I don't mean in the terms of your sex life." John said quickly. "There is more to love than simply making love Sherlock, that's easy."

"For the record, I've been giving Tammy her space." John groaned. "What?"

"Of all the times to give her space," John said. "now is not the time."

"Why not? She clearly doesn't want me closing in on her space."

"Sherlock, when was the last time…you showed her some affection? Holding her hand, giving her a hug, take her out for ice skating or something special like that?"

Sherlock was silent. "I guess that would be her birthday."

"Good God Sherlock!" John said. "No wonder she walks around looking like she's about to burst into tears! I bet you didn't even buy her a present."

He hadn't. "listen John."

"No, you listen. Either you take Tammy out, or I'm going to take her out for a night on the town."

I straightened at those words. Sherlock sounded indignant. "You can't take my wife out!"

"So," John ignored Sherlock's protests and continued with his threats. "you better take her out for a night that she'll remember forever, or I'll make sure she has some fun."

"Look John, Tammy has her moods and I really think its best to give her some space."

"Then why ask my advice?"

I got up from my spot in front of the empty fireplace, I'd heard enough from both of them. I stretched and looked around for my MP3 player, then I remembered I had it down in Sherlock's flat. I grabbed a heavy coat and went down the stairs. I pushed the door open, both men's heads jerked towards me. I spotted my MP3 player on the coffee table and I grabbed it. "Don't mind me, I was just looking for this."

Sherlock studied me. "You're going out?" I nodded. "Where?"

"I'm going for a walk."

Both men looked at me as if I was crazy. "In the rain?" I nodded. "But you can't do that," Sherlock said. "it won't help your asthma."

"I don't care. I've been walking out in the rain since I was a child. I'll be fine."

I turned and walked out of the room. I put my headphones in and turned the MP3 player on. I browsed through the tracks and tried to find one appropriate. 'Isn't this a lovely day to be caught in the rain' by Fred Astaire. Gene Kelly's immortal 'Singing in the rain'. David Cassidy's rendition of 'Raindrops'. Neil Sedaka's 'Laughter in the rain.'

I put all of them in a playlist, started with David Cassidy and reached for the doorknob as a hand closed over mine. I looked up to see Sherlock standing there, pulling on his coat. I pulled one earbud out to hear him. "Thought you'd like some company."

I shrugged. "Fine."

I shoved my hands in my pockets. John was right, I did want affection, but I wasn't in the mood to ask for it. "So," Sherlock asked as he put on 'that hat' on his head. I frowned and then decided it must be the only hat he had that could cover his head. "where are we going?" "Around the block, does it matter?"

"I guess not." He took my elbow and he walked along with me. He frowned and drew his coat collar up. "I don't understand why you're walking in the rain. There isn't a person on the street."

I pushed the other earbud in. "I happen to like walking in the rain. You don't have to join me if it's going to be such a task."

Sherlock didn't say anything. He pulled out my right earbud and stuck it in his ear, so we could listen to the music together. I didn't talk to him, but it felt nice walking down the street listening to Neil. He pulled my hand out of my pocket and swung it back and forth. I shook my head and smiled at him.

I wasn't concentrating on where we were going until Sherlock pulled me into a small coffee shop. I frowned and turned my MP3 player off. "What are we doing here?"

"I figure we could both use something warm to drink." His eyes scanned the coffee shop. "Two seats over there," he pointed. "they're out of the way and we can talk in private."

I nodded and walked to the seats. They were out of the way and the coffee shop, inspite of the cold weather, wasn't doing very good business. It was rather empty and I felt relieved that Sherlock and I could talk in private. I sat down and ran my fingers along the rim of the scented vanilla candle in the center of the table.

"Sorry about the delay," Sherlock said as he plopped down next to me. "the clerk wanted to know where that ear hat was." Sherlock huffed. "I don't know why everyone thinks I like that hat. I don't wear it!"

"Well, you look good in it." I admitted as I took the whipped cream and caramel covered drink that he offered me. I frowned. "This isn't cocoa."

"No. This is something a little more special. It's apple cider and they make the best apple cider. Try it."

I took a sip and instant heat shot through my body. "Mmmh, that's delicious."

He nodded. "I knew you'd like it." he took a sip of his. "Now, what's bothering you?"

"Are you asking me because you want to know or because John suggested you take me out?"

Sherlock frowned. "How'd you hear that?"

"Air vent."

"Of course." He exhaled. "I wish you hadn't heard that."

"Why?"

"Because now I have to try to convince you that this isn't John's idea. He said to take your mind off things, but I want to talk."

I sipped my cider. "You don't have to convince me. I'll take your word for it."

"So, has Moriarty contacted you?" I paused. "Has he?" I shook my head. "But he bothers you?" I nodded. "He's upset you?" again I nodded. "Tammy, I know you call me 'Mind Reader,' but this time I'd prefer to hear you speak. What upset you?"

"Sherlock, I'm scared." I confessed. "I feel like, I-I helped bring this about."

"Tammy."

"Let me finish. He wouldn't be as angry towards you…if you hadn't turned his only relative away from him."

"He didn't bother looking you up Tammy." He reminded me. "He didn't care about you. If he did, if he truly loved you like a brother should, he would have given you his blessing, instead of blackmailing you into giving up a relationship."

I bit my lip and tears began to fill my eyes as I confessed the true nature of my depression. "I-I think that…he's right about…one thing."

"Don't start assuming he's right about anything." Sherlock said gently. "Otherwise everything's going to go downhill."

"I-I might….not be able to….have children." I confessed. "My birthmom….she suffered….five miscarriages before carrying me to full term. And after I was born…she was told she couldn't have anymore children."

Sherlock was quiet for a moment. "And…that concerns you?"

"Yes." I looked up at him, vexed at myself to be crying. "I want to have children."

"Now?"

I looked down into my melted whipped cream. "Sometime, in the future." I began to drink my cider, which had cooled down. "I'd like to know….if, you'd like children as well." I couldn't look at him, because I didn't want him to see the hurt in my eyes if he said he didn't want children. "You haven't told me yet and…I guess I should have asked long before this."

Sherlock suddenly stood up. "Come on."

I frowned as he took my hand and pulled me out of the seat. I looked up to see a group of reporters about to enter the coffee shop. He pulled me out through the back door and we ran throughout the streets. Sherlock applied his mental map and about two minutes later; he'd gotten us back onto Baker Street. The reporters were still after us, but they were pretty far behind since Sherlock had taken an unusual route back to Baker's Street. We made it safely back inside the house before they got any photos of interest.

Sherlock kicked the door in aggravation. "I bet it was that bloody clerk!"

"It's all right Sherlock." I turned and began walking up the stairs slowly as I let out a cough.

"You ok?"

I nodded. "It's nothing big, just a cough because of the cold," I assured him. "not stress."

"Good."

I paused at the floor where his flat was and pulled off my coat, it wasn't my heaviest, so it had gotten soaked through. I peeled out of the coat and shook my wet hair. "I love the rain, but I hate to come out of it."

Sherlock stepped towards me, letting his coat, scarf and hat, fall from his hands to the floor. I flushed under 'that gaze' the gaze where he was taking in every single inch of my body. "Can I have you?" My heart jumped in my chest at his demanding question that was completely out of the blue for me. "I must have you." I bit my lip and Sherlock kissed me. I reached up and stroked those fine cheeks of his. "If you'd intended to tell me "No," then you really shouldn't bite your lip. So, how about it?"

"I'm yours to take."

I stepped away from him and backed up the stairs as Sherlock undid his suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor. He then unbuttoned his shirt, slowly and deliberately, before reaching out and gripping my hips. I gasped as I tripped on the final step and fell flat on my back. Sherlock was ontop of me instantly.

"Not…here." I gasped out. Sherlock kissed me and I let out a garble. Sherlock grabbed at the zipper on the side of my skirt gave it a hard enough pull to tear it. "Sherlock!"

"I'll buy you a new one."

I backed away from Sherlock as he cut off my protests with a kiss. The carpet and the backing up actions pulled my skirt off. I backed up into the door of my flat with a loud bang. I moaned as he grabbed ahold of my shirt and began attempting to pull it up over my head.

"Sherlock?" John called up the stairs. "That you?"

"Damn it." he growled as he jumped up from the ground. He leaned over the balcony and shouted. "What?!"

I gasped as I got up from the floor, my shirt half on and half off me and I had to pull my underwear back up around me for it had started to creep down thanks to the carpet. My skirt was down the hall and I wasn't going to retrieve it with John out on the stairs below! I opened my flat door and stumbled inside. I couldn't believe it; Sherlock was actually going to have sex with me in the hall! Sure, I was on the last floor, but what if John had come up instead of calling him?

John sounded confused. "I heard a thud and a bang."

"What do you want? And make it fast!"

"There's a case," John stuttered. "a murder."

"Right. Be down in a few minutes."

"Why are your clothes on the stairs down here?"

I blushed in embarrassment. Sherlock shouted down at him. "Will you mind your own business?!"

"Sherlock!" I reprimanded him. "John was only," Sherlock spun around and stomped towards me, my heart thudded in my chest and I jumped as he slammed the door behind him. "Sherlock. You've got to-

"The person's dead, they won't be going anywhere."

Sherlock grabbed me around the waist and pulled me back down onto the floor. I turned aside from the kisses he was showering on me and asked him. "Not the bedroom?"

"No time."

"Sherlock." I groaned. "The case, don't you think-

"Do you want that baby or not?" My eyes widened and I stared at Sherlock. He paused in his ministrations long enough to get my attention. I'd never expected that I'd hear those words from his mouth so I stared at him dumbly for the longest time. "Well?" he repeated. "Do you want that baby?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Now, shall we get busy and concentrate on that task at hand?" I nodded. "Good. Now," he titled his head to the side. "have I your permission to resume my assault on your simply delectable body before I have to go to that murder scene?"

I laughed lightly and nodded. "By all means Mr. Holmes. By all means."


	46. 46: The day of reckoning

Chapter forty-six

The day of reckoning

* * *

_Two months later,_

* * *

I was sick. I'd stayed out in the night air a bit too much and I'd contracted the flu. I was stuck in bed for a few days, Sherlock appointed John my personal doctor and I was to listen to John and no arguing. This was the first time Sherlock took John's side over mine and I wasn't sure that I liked that all that much! Still, at least Sherlock didn't abandon me completely. He'd read to me, play his violin, watch videos and tell me everything that going to happen before it happened. We'd play games and he'd beat me every single time. When he had a case, he'd send me occasional texts and I'd help him a bit.

Then one day, I heard Lestrade and Sally come into the house and they sounded agitated. I sluggishly got up from the bed, grabbed my robe and went to open the door. I pushed the bedroom door open and all eyes went towards me.

Sherlock frowned. "Back to bed, you look awful."

"How can I resist such an invitation?" I nodded at Greg and Sally. "Afternoon."

Greg nodded. "Afternoon. You should go back to bed, you look tired."

"I've been in bed for days."

"Sherlock," John said as he came into the room. "there's something weird," John paused. "what's going on?"

"Kidnapping."

"Rufus Brule," Lestrade explained. "the ambassador to the U.S."

"He's in Washington, isn't he?" John asked.

"Not him, his children, Max and Claudette," Greg explained. "aged seven and nine. They're at Subordates."

Sally said. "Posh boarding house down in surrey."

"School broke up, all the other boarders went home. Just a few kids remained, including those two."

"The kids have vanished."

"The ambassador's asked for you personally."

Sherlock stood up and walked past them. "The 'Reichenbach' hero." Sally commented smugly.

"He really doesn't appreciate being called that." I said. "Heroes don't exists, and if they did, he wouldn't be one." Everyone looked at me in surprise. "His words, not mine."

Sherlock nodded at me. "Thank you Tammy, now, shall we be going?" he turned and spun on his heel and turned towards the stairs.

"Isn't it great to be working with a celebrity?" Lestrade asked sarcastically, as he walked out of the flat.

"Sherlock?" I called. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Sherlock glanced at himself for a moment before snapping his fingers. "Right." He dashed back up the stairs; he grabbed his scarf and coat. "Thank you." He started to walk away, but stopped and turned towards me. "Almost forgot something else."

He leaned forward and kissed me deeply. I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck. He took his time before breaking the kiss. "Won't you get sick?"

He shook his head. "I doubt if you're still contagious."

I kissed him on the mouth again before stepping aside. "Good luck. And don't be too hard to get along with!"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. But you'll never know."

He turned and trotted down the stairs with the others in tow. The minute the door shut, I went up the stairs to my flat determined to follow them down to the school.

* * *

The police hadn't blocked the road off so the taxi driver was able to pull directly up to the school. I noticed John, Sherlock, Greg, John and Sally walking towards the building. I paid the driver and listened to Greg talking. "This Miss Mackenzie, house mistress, go easy.

Sherlock walked up to the grieving woman and spoke calmly. "Miss Mackenzie, you're in charge of pupil welfare, yet you left this place wide open last night!" My head whipped towards Sherlock as his tone rose in anger. "What are you? An idiot, a drunk or a criminal?!" Now, Sherlock was shouting at her and he whipped the blanket off her shocked, shaking shoulders and shouted in her face. "Now quickly! Tell me!"

I don't know how Miss Mackenzie was able to speak, much less refrain from keeling over in shock. "All the doors and windows were properly bolted. No one, not even me, went into their room last night. You have to believe me!"

Sherlock nodded and spoke calmly to her. "I do. I just wanted you to speak quickly." He then addressed the officers. "Miss Mackenzie will need to breathe into a bag now." Sherlock turned and noticed me approaching, he glowered. "Tammy, go home."

"No." I said as I buried my hands into my jacket pockets. "I've been stuck up in that flat for days and I'd must have some fresh air or I'll go insane." He started to object but I cut him off. "One word and I'll make you apologize to Miss Mackenzie."

I won. He shook his head as he walked away. I walked up to Miss Mackenzie who was sobbing hysterically. I wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and attempted to soothe her. "I am so, so, sorry for his rude behavior."

"I don't know anything."

"I know." I said gently. "Now, calm down. Everything is going to be all right." I rubbed her shoulders. "He should have the children back within a day or so. he will." She blinked and looked up at me, unconvinced. "He's unethical, but he's very smart in some ways, and equally stupid in others."

"Who are you?"

I bit my lip and confessed. "I'm his wife."

Her eyes widened. "Oh! I'm so sorry for you."

I nodded and smiled. "You and everyone else in the world he's offended, and I'm not even going to guess at that amount of people."

"Tammy?" Sherlock shouted out a window. "Are you coming up here?"

"Yes!" I turned and hurried into the building. John was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs that led up to the next story. "Don't say anything."

"I was actually going to suggest that you get out of bed today." John said. "But don't overdo it."

"Yes doctor."

"Six grand a term." John commented. "you'd expect them to keep the kids safe, wouldn't you?"

I nodded. "I would."

I watched as Sherlock began checking the little girl's dresser and under her bed. John continued talking. "Said the other kids had all left on their holidays?"

"They were the only two sleeping on this floor." Greg said. "There's absolutely no sign of a break in. the intruder must have been hidden inside someplace." Sherlock dropped the girls lacrosse stick, causing me to jump slightly. Sherlock then went towards the toy chest and opened it. when he paused, I walked towards him. I watched as he pulled a book from an envelope, Grimms fairytales. His eyes clouded for a moment and I wondered if there was something about the book that he knew, that I didn't know. After examining the book, he dropped it in the chest and slammed the lid down and stood up.

"Show me where the brother slept." He took off walking down the hall, but he seemed to know exactly which room the boy was, possibly because the door was open. I watched his face as he took in every inch of the room, the boy was a detective in training, and obvious by the sight of all those spy books he had. Sherlock turned, spreading his arms out wide. "Boy sleeps there every night, gazing out at the only light source outside in the corridor. He'd recognize every shape, every outline, the silhouette of everyone who came to the door."

"Ok, so?" Greg asked.

"He'd know something was wrong." I supplied quietly.

"So someone approaches the door who he doesn't recognize," Sherlock said as he approached the door to prove his point. "an intruder. Maybe he can even see the outline of a weapon." Sherlock closed the door, and brought his hands up to shape a gun. Sure enough, all of us could see the outline very distinctly. "What'd he do?" he asked as he came into the room. "In the precious few seconds before they came into the room, how would he use them if not to cry out? This little boy? This particular little boy, who reads all of those spy books, what would he do?"

"He'd leave a sign?" John said.

I nodded. "Obviously."

"Don't do that Tammy." John said quietly. "You're starting to sound like Sherlock."

Sherlock sniffed loudly and I turned towards John. "It was obvious and I am not starting to sound like Sherlock."

Then, two words came out of Sherlock's mouth that I hadn't' thought I'd ever hear. "Get Andersen."

I was still staring at Sherlock in surprise when the room was darkened and Sherlock used a fluorescent lamp to reveal that the boy had written words on the wall. _help us. _The words tugged at my heart and I felt sympathy for the parent's sake. Unconsciously, my hand moved protectively over my stomach. Even though I wasn't pregnant, I could imagine how the parents must feel, especially the mother, to have her children that she'd carried inside her for almost nine months, snatched from her and taken to places unknown.

"Linseed oil." Sherlock said.

"Not much use." Andersen said. "Doesn't lead us to the kidnapper."

Sherlock continued looking around the room. "Brilliant, Andersen."

Andersen fell for it. "Really?"

"Yes." Sherlock said sharply. "Brilliant impression of an idiot. Floor."

"He made a trail for us." John said.

"Boy was made to walk ahead of them."

"On tiptoe?" John asked.

"Indicates anxiety, gun held to his head."

" Oh God." I whispered.

Sherlock and everyone moved into the hall. "The girl is pulled beside him, dragged sideways. He had his left arm cradled about her neck."

"That's the end of it." Andersen said. "We don't know where they went from here. Tells us nothing, after all."

"You were right Andersen, nothing." Sherlock said. "Except for his shoe size, his height, his weight and his walking gait." Sherlock then pulled the dark paper off the window, shedding light on the situation in more ways than one.

I watched as Sherlock knelt happily on the floor and began digging the painted wood up. "Having fun?" John asked.

Sherlock nodded. "Starting to."

"Maybe don't do the smiling." John pointed out. "Kidnapped children?"

"Good point John." Suddenly, I began to feel really nauseous, like I was going to vomit. Then the hall started to swim before my eyes. I looked around. "Where do you think the nearest bathroom is?"

"You ok?" John asked.

"I feel a bit sick but…. I think it's because it's…really hot in here."

Sherlock frowned. "it's freezing in here Tammy."

"I'm fine." And that was the last thing I said before I fainted dead away.

* * *

I awoke to find my head in Sherlock's lap, John and Greg were leaning over me. I groaned. "Don't tell me I fainted."

"Yeah, you did." Sherlock stated. "Don't move just yet. John?"

he shrugged. "I don't see any reason for her passing out. She is a little warm, maybe just complication from the flu. You should go back home."

"I'm fine."

"And that's why I'm picking you up off the floor?" Sherlock asked as he brushed a strand of hair back from my face.

Bile welled up in me and I rolled onto my side. "Sorry." I began throwing up and I was mortified as I threw up all over Andersen's shoes. He began complaining as I threw up liquid. I hadn't eaten breakfast yet, so I didn't really know what I was throwing up. My vomiting ceased after a few moments.

"Let's get her to a chair," John advised. "I texted an associate of mine and I made an appointment for you to have a thorough exam tomorrow at Bart's."

"I'm not going to argue." I rasped. "I'm going to go home."

"Right."

Sherlock leaned forward to kiss me and I jerked my head to the side. "Don't you dare, I taste terrible, as I have for the last few days."

"On the contrary, you taste delicious wherever I kiss you." He kissed my forehead. "Now, go home, rest, take your medicine and for God's sake, do what I'm asking you."

"Fine. But I'll have to wait for a taxi."

"Agreed. Keep an eye on her Lestrade."

"Right. You could lay down in a car." Greg offered as he took ahold of my arm.

I shook my head. "I'm not tired. I've been sleeping the days away."

"You're sick." John said. "The sooner your body rests, the sooner you'll recover."

"I'm going to miss out on everything."

"I'll call you when we find the kids." Sherlock said. "I'll see you home later tonight."

* * *

When Sherlock said later, he meant later. I spent the entire day sleeping, reading and eating dry toast. That appeared to be the only thing that I could keep down. Then, at 9:00, my cell phone went off and there was a message for me. I was expecting it to be from Sherlock, but what I read instead chilled me to the bone. _You cursed the day I was born. Be sure you cursed the day that you met Sherlock Holmes._

That's when my world blackened. Moriarty, he was back, and the day of reckoning was upon Sherlock and I now.


	47. 47: Trapped in an hourglass

Chapter forty-seven

Trapped in an hourglass

My hands shook as I pulled on a long sleeved, deep blue dress over my head. I grabbed a pair of heels and had just gotten my feet into them when I heard Sherlock walking rapidly upstairs to his flat. I jumped up and raced out of my flat and hurried downstairs.

I arrived in his flat to see that he was sitting at the table with his laptop on. "Four assassins living right on our doorstep. They didn't come here to kill me; they have to keep me alive." He is completely focused on something, so I debate showing him Moriarty's text or not. "I've got something that all of them want, but if one of them approaches me."

John commented from his position by the window. The others kill them before they can get it.

Sherlock grunts in agreement. "All of the attention is focussed on me. There's a surveillance web closing in on us right now."

I asked. "So what do you have that's so important?"

Sherlock thinks for a moment, then runs his finger along the table before looking at his finger. "We need to ask about the dusting." He then shouted loudly. "Mrs. Hudson!"

I groaned. "I'll get her."

Sherlock shook his head. "She's watching the telly, she'll be up in a moment."

John glanced at me. "How are you feeling?"

"Creeped out."

"I mean, any improvement from today?"

"Oh! Uhm, I guess so."

Mrs. Hudson appeared in her nightdress and dressing gown. Sherlock is checking for dust. He begins stalking around the room, checking all sorts of places. "Precise details, in the last week, what's been cleaned?"

Mrs. Hudson looks a little stunned, but she catches on quickly. "Well, Tuesday I did your lino."

"No, in here, this room." Sherlock cut her off. "This is where we'll find it, any break in the dust line. You can put back anything but dust." He twirls his finger dramatically in the air. "Dust is eloquent."

"Is that why you don't do dust your flat yourself?"

He ignores me and Mrs. Hudson looks at John. "What's he on about?"

John shakes his head and I watch as Sherlock begins climbing on the furniture to look more closely at the top shelves. "Cameras." I walked towards him. "We're being watched."

"What? Cameras?" Poor Mrs. Hudson cringes in embarrassment. "Here? I'm in my nightie!"

The doorbell rings and she hurries out of the room and John follows her. Sherlock has climbed down from the left bookshelf and now begins to examine his skull, and then he climbs onto small tables to look at the other bookshelves. As he begins checking the books on the top shelf, I stand behind him, placing a hand on the small of his back.

"Tammy."

"I don't want you to fall."

Sherlock begins to wiggle a book and his eyes narrow. He removes the book and hands it to me. "Here." I take it, but still keep him braced with my other hand. I hear footsteps and turn around as Greg comes into the room with John. Sherlock is concentrating on removing the camera, but he still knows who is in the room. "No, Inspector."

Greg frowns. "What?"

Sherlock steps down with the small camera in hand. "The answer's no."

I frowned at the cat and mouse game going on between them. "But you haven't heard the question!" Greg said.

Sherlock frowned. "You want to take me to the station. Just saving you the trouble of asking."

I frowned. "Why would you need to go to the station?"

Greg sucks in a breath. "Sherlock."

"The scream?" Sherlock interrupts him.

"Yeah." Greg nods.

I look to John. "What scream? What's going on here?"

"Who was it?" He asked. "Donovan? I bet it was Donovan. Am I somehow responsible for the kidnapping?"

I stared at them. "What?"

"Ah, Moriarty is smart." Sherlock said as he approached Greg slowly. "He planted that doubt in her head; that little nagging sensation. You're gonna have to be strong to resist. You can't kill an idea, can you? Not once it's made a home," he reaches forward and places a finger on Greg's forehead, between his eyes. "there."

Greg sighs. "Will you come?"

My mouth drops open. "You can't be serious Greg!"

"I'm afraid so Tammy." He looked tired. "I've got to."

Sherlock turns away and sits down at the laptop. "One photograph, that's his next move. Moriarty's game. First, the scream, then a photograph of me being taken in for questioning. He wants to destroy me inch by inch." Sherlock looks at Greg for a moment. "It's a game, Lestrade, and not one I'm willing to play." He looked away. "Give my regards to Sergeant Donovan."

With a sigh, Greg turns and heads off down the stairs. I stare at Sherlock and John for a moment before going after Greg. "Greg?" I call and he stops halfway down. "What's going on?" I ask as I approach him. "I need to know."

He exhaled. "Sherlock found the children."

"That's good."

"And…the girl," he shifted uncomfortably. "she, started screaming, the moment she saw Sherlock. No reason at all."

I stared at him for a moment as his words sunk into my mind. It took me less than thirty seconds to have figured everything out. I replied calmly. "My husband," I put special emphasis on my term of endearment. "is a very clever man. And if he were involved with the kidnapping, he certainly wouldn't be stupid enough to incriminate himself by walking into the room with his victim after she'd been rescued." I turned and hurried back up the stairs. "Tell that to Sergeant Donovan."

"Hang on," he said. "I thought you and Sally were friends."

"You said the perfect word Greg. You said 'were' and that's exactly it. We were friends." I spoke seriously. "But I can never, ever, be friends with anyone who speaks against my husband in any way, shape or form. She's gone too far this time."

I walked into the flat and shut the door. John walked over to the window and looked outside. I could just imagine Greg getting into his car. Sherlock was the first to speak. "They'll be deciding."

John asked. "Deciding?"

"Whether to come back with a warrant and arrest me."

I stared at him. "You're kidding!"

Sherlock didn't even look up from his laptop. "It's standard procedure."

"Greg walked me down the aisle at our wedding! There is no way he'd actually arrest you in front of me!"

"People can't afford to be sentimental in their jobs." Sherlock stated conversationally.

I groaned. "Why are you always so calm in situations like this!?"

"You should have gone with him." John said. "People will think-

"I don't care what people think." Sherlock stated.

"Obviously." I said as I sat down in his favorite chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You'd care if they thought you were stupid or wrong." John pointed out.

"No. That would just make them stupid or wrong."

"Sherlock," the words burst out of john. "I don't want the world believing you're-

John stopped, catching himself. But he'd caught Sherlock's full attention now. "That I am what?" Sherlock's voice is quiet and cautious.

John is silent for a long time, before he replies. "A fraud."

Sherlock studies John before exhaling and rocking back in his seat. "You're worried they're right."

"What?"

"You're worried they're right about me."

"No." John shook his head.

"That's why you're so upset. You can't even entertain the possibility that they might be right. You're afraid that you've been taken in as well."

"No I'm not."

"Moriarty is playing with your mind too." Sherlock slammed the table with his fist and he shouted at John. I jumped out of my chair, ready for anything if the situation escalated. "Can't you see what's going on!?"

But it didn't. John stood there calmly, with all the façade of a heroic soldier looking death in the face. "No," he said calmly and firmly. "I know you're for real."

John looked back out the window while Sherlock looked back down at his laptop. "A hundred percent?"

"Nobody can fake being such an annoying dick all the time." John added hastily. "Sorry Tammy."

"Accepted."

Sherlock turned to me. "And what about you Tammy? Are you entertaining the possibilities as well?"

"The last time you doubted something Sherlock Holmes, we had our first fight. Don't you dare start doubting me, or we'll have the biggest fight of our lives."

"Don't avoid the question. Answer me."

I stepped towards him and kissed him. He was hot and tense, I could feel that. But I also felt some of the tension leave his body at my kiss. I pulled away and ran my hand down his cheek. His eyes studied me with an intense gaze. "No one Sherlock, not even you, could convince me to doubt in you Sherlock Holmes. You're the most intelligent man I've ever known. Granted, you're a little stupid because you doubt how deep John and my devotion to you is. John is your best and most loyal friend you'll ever have. Me, I'm your wife, your helpmeet, and nothing can break the bond between us. Believe that."

I walked away from him and went to the kitchen. I brought him a water bottle and handed it to him. he stared at my hand for a while before taking it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." It was then I remembered my message from Moriarty. I pulled out my phone and showed him the message. "I got this right before you got him. it's from him."

Sherlock studied the phone and he was silent before responding. "You are involved now Tammy. Part of the final problem."

"Why does he call it the final problem?" I asked. "What does he mean by final?"

Sherlock didn't answer me and his silence told me what my heart all ready knew. This was a duel of the minds and only one would survive. I now realized that we were trapped in an hourglass, with only so much time to break free before we ran out of time.

* * *

**For CLTex, who has been so hooked from day one, that they read 43 chapters in one sitting! Enjoy!**


	48. 48: The grand escape

Chapter forty-eight

The grand escape

The tension was killing me; Sherlock sat in his chair quietly, deep in thought. John moved from his chair, to the window, to the kitchen, and then back to his chair. When John's phone rang, I almost fell off the arm of Sherlock's chair. He reached out, grasping my hip and steadied me without turning a hair.

"Hello." John's face grew serious and he nodded. "Right. Thank you." He lowered his cell phone from his ear and turned it off. He turns to Sherlock. "So, still got some friends on the Force. It's Lestrade. Says they're all coming over here right now, queuing up to slap on the handcuffs." My heart jumped up in my chest. "Every single officer you ever made feel like a tit, which is a lot of people."

As always, Sherlock appears to be taking no notice of John. I turned towards him; he wasn't planning to get out of that chair, much less run away. Mrs. Hudson knocked on the door, causing me to jump. She seems a little oblivious the tension in the room. "Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?" Sherlock rolls his eyes and looks away, so she addresses John. "Some chap delivered a parcel. I forgot. Marked 'Perishable' – I had to sign for it." John takes the package from her and I immediately recognize the wax seal over the flap.

I stand up. "Sherlock, that's the same seal from the kidnapped case."

"Funny name." Mrs. Hudson says. "German, like the fairytales."

Sherlock walks forward, as John pulls out the contents of the package. Outside, I now hear the sounds of sirens and several approaching vehicles. I'd beg Sherlock to run, but that's not his style. In John's hand is a large gingerbread man but it's burnt.

Sherlock studied it before responding dryly. "Burnt to a crisp."

John as always, didn't really see the picture. The sirens have stopped and I hear people getting out of the cars, slamming doors behind them. "What does it mean?"

"Time's up." I reply quietly at the same moment the doorbell rings and the police officers begin pounding at the door.

"I'll go." Mrs. Hudson offers. She turns and hurries down the stairs.

John turns and walks out of the flat to join Mrs. Hudson and to give Sherlock and I some privacy. Sherlock calmly turns around and picks up his scarf and loops it around his neck. "You're taking this rather well." He said.

I bit my lip. "I am crying, just…on the inside."

"I'm surprised that you haven't asked me to take off out a window."

"I have," he turns and looks at me. "in my mind. I know you, I know you'd never run from anything."

He smiles faintly and gets into his coat. I step forward and button up his coat. John is apparently blocking the stairs halfway up. "Have you got a warrant?" he demands angrily. "Have you?"

Greg snaps. "Leave it, John."

Moments later, Greg stands in front of him and reads him his rights while an officer attaches handcuffs to his left wrist. "Sherlock Holmes, I'm arresting you on suspicion of abduction and kidnapping." The officer pulls Sherlock's left hand behind his back in order to cuff his other wrist.

"Is this necessary?" I demand.

"He's not resisting." John said.

"It's all right, John." He turned towards me. "It's all right."

"He's not resisting. No, it's not all right." John just wouldn't give up though. "This is ridiculous."

Greg surprised me by actually getting into John's face and pointing at him. "Don't try to interfere," he said sternly. "or I shall arrest you too." He turned towards me, with the same expression on his face. "That goes for you too Tammy." He then addressed the officer who had handcuffed Sherlock. "Get him downstairs now."

The officer spins Sherlock around and roughly marches him towards the door. All my efforts to be brave threaten to crumble. "Greg! Wait! Just a minute! Please! Can't I even-

"No." he says firmly.

"I'd like to kiss my husband goodbye."

"No." he repeated firmly.

Greg!" I pleaded as tears filled my eyes. "Please!"

"For God's sake," John shouted. "what's gotten into you Greg? Have you forgotten that you walked her down the aisle at their wedding! You've just arrested him in front of her! Don't you have any decency to grant her 30 seconds to kiss her husband goodbye?"

I watched as Greg exhaled and called. "Hold it!"

Sally stared at him. "You're not actually-

"Shut up." John snapped at her. "It's not going to do any harm."

The officers came back into the room, with Sherlock in tow. "All right." Greg said. "Step aside, let her kiss him goodbye."

Sherlock's brows rose as I threw my arms around Sherlock's neck and hugged him. "Always a dramatic moment Tammy?" he said. "You even have an audience."

"You didn't think of kissing me goodbye and I don't know when I'm going to get that opportunity again."

"Well, small we make it one that they remember?"

I shook my head and kissed him stretching up on tiptoe and pressing my fingers into his shoulders. Sherlock traced his tongue over my lips and I parted my lips, granting him access to my mouth. For a brief few moments, I forgot about the audience until someone, either John or Greg cleared their throat. I shook my head as I moved back so our foreheads touched. "I can't believe this is happening!"

Sherlock nuzzled my face with his nose. "It's all right Tammy. everything's all right." He whispered. "Trust me."

"Take him away." Greg said.

As the officers stepped towards us, I straightened Sherlock's hair a little before grabbing onto his coat lapels, kissing him quickly, and biting him firmly on his lower lip. I felt him jump under my touch and his eyes widened as we were pulled apart. I felt John's hands on my shoulders, keeping me from following after him.

"You better get out of this mess fast!" I called after him, my voice cracking with tears that were desperate to fall.

"Look after her Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock called over his shoulder. "be sure that she takes her medicine."

I covered my mouth and turned aside as tears poured down my cheeks. "Oh, that man!" I turned to face John. "Every day, a little death."

John offered me a hug and I accepted it. I closed my eyes as he swayed me back and forth. John was stronger than Sherlock, but he couldn't make me feel safe and secure like Sherlock could. I felt a hand on my shoulder and spun around to see Greg. I didn't say a word, I let my eyes speak for me and Greg took his hand off me.

"I am sorry Tammy." He said quietly. "you know I wouldn't hurt you for the world."

"When you don't want me to die for the world, let me know." I said tightly. "Because if this isn't hurt, it must be death."

John murmurs quietly. "You did very well. I'm proud of you."

"I didn't want him to see me cry."

John turns to Sally who is standing near the door. "You done?"

Sally looks smug and to pleased as punch as she walks into the room. "Oh, I said it. First time we met."

John glowers at her. "Don't bother."

I frown. "What did she say?"

"Solving crimes won't be enough. One day he'll cross the line." Now, ask yourself," she looks pointedly. "what sort of man would kidnap those kids just so he can impress us all by finding them?"

Mrs. Hudson gasps and John isn't able to stop me as I launch myself at Sally, grab ahold of her hair and pull. "You crazy, bloody, witch!" Sally screams as I pull. Greg grabs ahold of Sally; John grabs ahold of me. Both men shout at us, while they pull us apart. As I'm pulled away, Sally is definitely missing a handful of hair in one spot. "How dare you!" I shout. "Get out! Get out now!"

"Look, calm down."

"Don't you _dare _tell me to calm down Lestrade!" I shout. "Bloody hell, are you really all such idiots?! Can't you see what's happening?"

"Donovan?" I spin around to see a strange man intruding. If I'd thought anything negative about Mycroft, I mentally took everything back as I saw this man. He was the definition of the word snob.

Sally straightens and brushes her clothes back into order. "Sir."

"Got our man?"

I shoot Sally a glare and she takes a step back "Yes, sir."

"Looked a bit of a weirdo, if you ask me." I turn my anger towards that man. "Often are, these vigilante types."

"Why you!" I flung myself at the fat man, ready to hit him in the nose and kick him right between the legs but Lestrade caught me. "Oh, let me go!"

"No." he said as he struggled to get me to calm down. "I won't! This is my flat!"

"Sherlock's." Lestrade reasoned.

"My husbands!" I shouted. "I will not allow anyone to remain in my flat any longer! You arrested him! Now everyone, get the hell out of here now and take this snobbish, bean-belly, fat, pompous, tub of lard out of my sight!"

The man drew back from me as if I were insane to attack him because he called my husband a weirdo and vigilante in my presence. "What are you looking at?"

I looked up just as John threw a punch, hitting the man square in the nose! I laughed as the man groaned. "Thank you John!" blood came instantly flowing out of the man's nose and down his shirt.

"Pleasure Tammy." He said flecking his knuckles before hitting the man again.

Greg groaned and snapped. "Why'd you have to do that?"

"Oh don't ask him such an obvious question." I snapped as I folded my arms across my chest. "I'd be questioning John's loyalty if he _didn't _break that guys nose."

"Yeah." Sally said dryly. "Except I wouldn't go around punching the Chief Superintendent!"

The blood drained from my face. "Oh God. I'm sorry John."

John shrugged it off as two officers grabbed him and marched him down the stairs. "I'd it again."

I groaned and turned to the others. Sally was moving towards my kitchen and I snapped. "Get out of my kitchen!"

She glowered at me. "I'm getting some towels and water."

"No." I stated. "Get out. You came here with orders to arrest Sherlock. Nothing else. This is my flat and none of you are welcome here. Nor, are you welcome to take anything. Get out! Or I shall file a complaint with Scotland Yard that several officers took things from my flat without permission."

"It's just a paper towel." Greg said.

"That I bought and paid for with my money. I didn't give you permission to help yourself to anything. You are not my guests. Now get out! Let him use his personal hankie on his nose! Now get out!"

Greg exhaled and nodded at Sally. "Let's go."

Everyone shuffled out of the room. I paced back and forth, while Mrs. Hudson looked on. "I can't believe this."

"Neither can i." I was close to blowing up. "I can't believe this! They're actually falling for Moriarty's plan!" I kicked Sherlock's table in aggravation. "I don't even know what Sherlock's got going on his mind and that's what's frying me at the moment! I don't know what's going on!"

Suddenly, there was a loud feedback and I raced to the window to see what had happened. Sherlock had a gun, which he must have grabbed from an officer in the chaos. "Ladies and gentlemen," as he began backing away, I observed that he was handcuffed to John. "will you all please get on your knees?" no one seems to believe him until he fires twice into the air. "_Now_ would be good!"

Lestrade shouts. "Do as he says!"

John proclaims loudly. "J-just so you're aware, the gun is his idea. I'm just, uh, you know."

Sherlock switches the gun from his handcuffed hand and points the loaded gun at John's head. "My hostage!"

"Oh, please." I begged. "Don't accidentally shoot him in the head! So much for gun safety!"

John nods. "Hostage, yes, that works. That works."

As they slowly back around a corner, I notice a building with a new graffiti painting on it. The words, IOU, painted in red against a pair of black angel wings, obviously a message from Moriarty.

The two of them take off running and relief washes over me. "He got away!" I pound the window ledge in relief. "Oh, he got away!"

The chief superintendent shouts. "Get after him Lestrade!" he then turns and spies me looking out the window down at them. "Get her too!" he shouted. "Arrest her for aiding a criminal!"

"Right." I said to Mrs. Hudson. "Time to go. I'm going to go out a window upstairs. Stall them if you can, but please, don't go to jail."

"Don't worry dear." She said shooing me away. "Go! And hurry!"

I ran up the flat stairs, entered my flat, closed the door, grabbed my coat and ran up towards the roof. I could hear Mrs. Hudson crying that she'd fallen and hurt her hip. I shook my head, reminding myself to hug her when I saw her again.

I got out ontop of the roof and began plotting out a map in my mind. I could jump onto the opposite roof, scale down their fire escape, then use Sherlock's and my escape route that we'd used to avoid the reporters. I took off my heels, stuffed them in my pocket, inhaled deeply, took a run at the roof and landed safely on the other side. But I did trip and scrape my knee and hands.

I got up and went towards the fire escape. "I can't believe he's got me doing this again." I scaled down the escape and took the route Sherlock and I did. Once I arrived at the coffee shop, I turned around and realized that I'd actually made a clean escape. I coughed lightly. "Maybe you're rubbing off on me more than I realize." I rubbed my hands on my pants.

My phone went off and I grabbed it and answered it. "Sherlock?"

The laugh that was on the other end told me that it wasn't Sherlock. "Hullo Tammy."

"Go rot in hell you sick bastard! I snapped and hung up on him. My hands shook and I closed my eyes and phone went off again. I grabbed it and snapped. "I don't want to talk to you!" I shouted. "Stop calling!"

"Tammy?" It was Sherlock.

"Sherlock!" I exhaled in relief. "Oh God! Are you all right?"

"Are you?" he frowned. "John suggested I let you know I'm all right."

"By suggested, you mean ordered." I said. "I'm on the run. The chief superintendent wants me arrested as an accomplice."

"Where are you?"

"At the coffee shop."

"Look, I'm going to text you an address. I've got to go now. Meet us there."

"I will!" He hung up on me and I added, even though I knew he couldn't hear me. "I love you." I then dashed out into the street to flag down a taxi.


	49. 49: A night of many things

Chapter forty-nine

A night of many things

I hadn't grabbed my purse on the way out, but fortunately, I'd left it my wallet in my coat pocket. I paid the driver, ran up the stairs and tapped on the number of the flat that Sherlock had directed me to. The door opened and Sherlock was on the other end.

I fairly jumped up into his arms. "Thank God. You're all right."

He pulled away and examined my hands. "You cut your hands."

"I jumped off a roof."

His eyes widened. "You jumped off a roof?"

I nodded. "Yes. But I'm fine."

"Mr. Holmes," a woman said behind him. "can we get back to business so you can leave?" I turned and recognized the woman immediately. I saw the woman who'd come out of the men's bathroom when Moriarty was on trial. She didn't seem to remember me, but then she was focused on Sherlock. "I gave you your opportunity. I wanted to be on your side, remember? You turned me down, so-

Sherlock turned back towards her. "And then, behold, someone turns up and spills all the beans. How utterly convenient. Who is Brook?" She shook her head, refusing to answer him. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Kitty. No one trusts the voice at the end of a telephone. There are all those furtive little meetings in cafés; those sessions in the hotel room where he gabbled into your Dictaphone. How do you know that you can trust him? A man turns up with the Holy Grail in his pockets." Sherlock's tone turns stern. "What were his credentials?

The door behind me opens, smacking me and I move out of the way. Everyone turns towards the door and in walks…..Moriarty! He's unshaven, his hair messy and he's even wearing casual clothes. He's also carrying a shopping bag. "Darling," I start. He's calling her 'Darling,' but he's gay! "they didn't have any ground coffee so I just got normal." He then realizes that kitty isn't alone and his face turns into terror at the sight of Sherlock, whose eyes widen as well. He drops the shopping bag and backs into the wall. I watch in shock as he holds his hands up protectively in front of him. "You said that they wouldn't find me here." He snivels, sounding truly pathetic. "You said that I'd be safe here."

"You are safe, Richard." She says calmly. "I'm a witness. He wouldn't harm you in front of witnesses.

John is completely shocked as he points at Moriarty. "So that's your source? Moriarty is Richard Brook?!"

"Of course he's Richard Brook." Kitty says as if John's an idiot. "There is no Moriarty. There never has been."

"What are you talking about?" I demand.

"Look him up. Rich Brook, an actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty."

Sherlock nodded, as he took in the whole situation. I stared at Moriarty and Kitty. "You're sick! You're absolutely delusional!"

Sherlock says nothing, but continues to stare at Moriarty. "Doctor Watson," he says in a pathetic, trembling voice. "I know you're a good man." He cowers under the heat of John's furious glare. "Don't ... don't hurt me."

John shouts at him. "No, you are Moriarty!" he then yells at Kitty. "He's Moriarty! We've met, remember? You were gonna blow me up!"

I nodded and shouted. "You also tried to shoot Sherlock as well! You tried to break us up!

Jim puts his hands briefly over his face, as if he were going to start crying. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He gestures towards Sherlock. "He paid me. I needed the work. I'm an actor. I was out of work."

"Oh, you're a damn, bloody actor! And don't I know it!"

"I'm sorry, okay?"

John turns to Sherlock. "Sherlock, you'd better ... explain ... because I am not getting this."

"Oh I'll be doing the explaining," Kitty states. "in print." She hands John a folder. "It's all here – conclusive proof."

I didn't even bother looking. "Don't bother John," I said, it's all lies.

"He invented all the crimes." Kitty looked at Sherlock. "You invented James Moriarty, your nemesis."

"Invented him?" I shouted.

Kitty nodded. "Invented all the crimes, actually, and to cap it all, you made up a master villain."

"Oh," John said. "don't be ridiculous!"

Kitty points at Jim. "Ask him. He's right here! Just ask him. Tell him, Richard."

"He's a liar!" I shouted. "A filthy liar!"

John shrieked. "Look, for God's sake, this man was on trial!"

"Yes," she points at Sherlock, who is still too bloody calm! "and you paid him; paid him to take the rap. Promised you'd rig the jury." Sherlock stares at her silently. Not a single word left his lips. "Not exactly a West End role, but I'll bet the money was good." She walks over to Jim and puts her arm around his shoulders. "But not so good he didn't want to sell his story."

"You're insane if you think he actually cares about you!" I spat. "He's gay!" she jumped. "

Moriarty puts his hands together pleadingly. "I am sorry. I am. I am sorry."

John turns to Kitty. "So-so this is the story that you're gonna publish. The big conclusion of it all: Moriarty's an actor?!"

"He knows I am. I have proof. I have proof. Show him, Kitty!" He pleads. "Show him something!"

"Yeah, show me something."

Kitty walks across the room. She misses the moment when Moriarty looks towards Sherlock, whose hasn't broken eye contact with him since he arrived. For a moment, he reveals his true self as he smirks triumphantly. Sherlock smiles back at him, but there's no humor in his eyes. Kitty hands john a folder. Moriarty slips back into his Mr. Pity Party mode. "I'm on TV. I'm on kids' TV. I'm The Storyteller." My head shoots up as I make the connection. Jim looks at Sherlock pleadingly. "Just tell him. It's all coming out now. It's all over." His voice becomes more frantic and I grow angry. I glance at Sherlock his hand is up and his fist is doubled as if he's fighting the temptation to hit Moriarty. "Just tell them. Just tell them. Tell him!" I feel Sherlock's anger flourish. "It's all over now" Sherlock takes a step forward and he shrieks. "NO!" He backs away from Sherlock and up a short flight of stairs. His eyes are wide and as much as I hated to give him credit, he's one hell of an actor. "Don't you touch me! Don't you lay a finger on me!"

Sherlock is furious and I tremble as he shouts. "Stop it. Stop it NOW!"

With that, Moriarty turns and bolts up the stairs. "Don't hurt me!"

"You bet your bloody, 'A' that we're going to hurt you! You bastard!" I shouted. "And I want a piece of you as well!"

Sherlock and John chase after him and I follow. "Don't let him get away!" John shouts.

Kitty shrieks. "Leave him alone!"

I turn around and deal with her. "You're are a stupid idiot!"

"And who are you exactly?" she demands. "Saw you before at the trial."

"I'm Mrs. Holmes!" Her eyes widen in surprise and I add for good measure. "Moriarty is my brother and unfortunately, Sherlock's brother-in-law! If you knew what's good for you, you'd take our words as gospel otherwise you'll look a fool." Sherlock and John hurry back. "He got away?"

"Yes."

"Let's go."

"No, no, no. He'll have back-up." Sherlock heads towards the stairs. Kitty doesn't move quickly out of his way , causing him to slow him down.)

"Do you know what, Sherlock Holmes? I look at you now and I can read you." Something in her tone causes him to stop at the bottom of the stairs as she gets into his face. "And you ... repel ... me."

Sherlock turns and heads out of the door. John, still holding the folder of the articles about Rich, follows him. "Sherlock's too polite, but I'm not. When people are trying to get by," I shove her. "you should get out of their way!" I spin around. "And, tell your paper they better hold that story, or I am going to sue them for libel and I will win!"

"Oh really?"

I nodded. "Before I married Sherlock, my maiden name was Taylor."

"Oh, you're that cabaret singer."

I smiled sweetly. "Yes. But I also happen to _own _the Taylor wine line." Her face stiffened. "Don't believe me? do your research and I assure you, you won't be disappointed."

I run after them as Kitty closes the door behind me. I find them in the street and Sherlock is pacing rapidly back and forth in the middle of the road. "Can he do that?" John asked. "Completely change his identity; make you the criminal?"

"He's got my whole life story." Sherlock is practically spitting the words out. "That's what you do when you sell a big lie; you wrap it up in the truth to make it more palatable."

"Your word against his."

"He's been sowing doubt into people's minds for the last twenty-four hours. There's only one thing he needs to do to complete his game, and that's to-

Sherlock stops dead in his tracks as he realizes something. John, looks up at Sherlock, who had his back to John and I. "Sherlock?"

"There's something I need to do."

"What?" John asked. "Can I help?"

"No." he walked briskly away. "On my own."

I sighed as I watched his retreating figure. "Now what?"

John shrugged. "I've got to go see Mycroft about something."

I shook my head. "In that case, I'll take a walk. I won't go far." My phone went off and it was a text from Sherlock. _Meet me at Bart's lab in an hour. molly will help you get inside.. _"Sherlock wants to meet at Bart's lab in an hour."

"Why an hour, I wonder?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I wish I were a virus at times, that way I could sneak into that mind of his!"

John laughed. "Good one Tammy."

"Oh and, don't worry about her story. I threatened to sue for libel."

"You won't win."

"Don't bet on it John. When Sherlock say's he married me for my money, he wasn't really kidding. I happen to own the Taylor Wine Company. I'm loaded."

John's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Oh. Good…threat then." He laughed. "You are aware that you actually swore at Moriarty tonight right?"

I nodded. "Twice actually. It's been a night of many things. You better get going and see Mycroft if you're going to meet Sherlock back at Bart's."

"Right. You be careful though."

I nodded. "I will. Good luck with Mycroft."

"He's going to need it."

John mumbled as he turned and headed off in the opposite direction. I frowned and I studied John's posture as he turned and walked away from me. his whole stance gave the impression that he had a secret, and there was something about the secret that was bothering him. I turned and walked around, thoughts milling in my mind, I wasn't completely sure what was going on, but I had the gist of it. Both men were hiding something from me, and I didn't know what it was.


	50. 50: Another look

Chapter fifty

Another look

I frowned as I entered Bart's, I glanced around and sure enough, molly was waiting for me. She gestured. "Follow me."

I nodded and hurried towards her. "Thank you. Where's Sherlock?"

"In the lab." She said. "You two should be fine overnight."

"Did John arrive yet?"

Molly frowned. "Sherlock said that you were the only one coming."

"Oh, but I texted John."

She shrugged. "Maybe he's contacting John."

We didn't say much else; there wasn't anything else to say as we approached the lab. Molly opened the door and Sherlock spun around. I approached him and hugged him. He surprised me by wrapping his arms around me, swaying back and forth before pressing a kiss on the top of my head. "You all right?"

I nodded. "I'm fine."

Molly cleared her throat uncomfortably. We pulled aside and molly handed Sherlock the keys. "Here. Are you sure you'll be all right?"

I nodded. "We'll be fine." I hugged her. "Thank you molly."

She smiled shyly. "I-I'm happy to help. Goodnight."

I watched her walk out of the lab with Sherlock behind her. But he stopped to lock the door of the lab. "When is John coming?" I asked.

"My text," he said quietly. "asked you to meet me here, not john." Sherlock sat on the ground with his back against the bench. "I sent John for an hour walk."

"I see." I got down onto the floor beside him.

He studied me. "Cold?"

"I'm fine." I assured him. "Honest."

Sherlock nodded his head and rubbed my shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"Yes Sherlock, I'm certain." He nodded and I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent. Sherlock shifted and I removed my head from his shoulder as he removed his coat. He laid his coat aside and he then turned, shifting towards me.

"Have you been happy Tammy?" he asked me quietly. "Since you married me?"

I nodded and nestled closer to him. "I was never happy until I met you Sherlock."

"If you could start again," he asked quietly asked took my hand in his. "live your life without me, what would you do?"

It didn't take much to answer that question. "I'd die an old maid."

He rolled his eyes. "Not logical." His grip on my fingers tightened. "Beautiful woman like you, should attract the attention of hundreds of men."

"Boring." I mused. "I couldn't love anyone except you. I can't ever imagine loving anyone else but you." I squeezed his hand. "You've said it yourself on occasion, I am a romantic. Old-fashioned, but a romantic none the less. I look back at all the other men, and I realize that, no matter who they were, what they did, what they said, they just were never enough." I looked up into his eyes. "A simple touch from you is enough to satisfy me. You don't say you love me, so when you say words of affection, I take them to heart and treasure them more than the average woman who hears it every day."

Sherlock's hands slid down to my hips, which he cupped, and brought me up on my knees. I frowned as he stayed on his knees as well. He brought my dress up and over my head. His eyes burned into me, memorizing me a manner more deeper than anything I'd ever experienced by him. I couldn't speak; in fact I could barely breathe as Sherlock removed his coat and shirt without taking his eyes from my body.

Sherlock placed his fingers over my lips. "Let me make the most of loving you." I nodded, as I parted my lip, and drawing his finger into my mouth. But Sherlock removed his hand from my mouth. "No. Tonight, it's all about you."

He said those words, but for some reason, it felt as if it were about him. His lovemaking was different tonight; it was slow, soft, and romantic. It was like our wedding night all over again. There wasn't a part of me that went untouched or unkissed. Sherlock eyed every place on my body with a completely focused eye. His hands slowly touched every spot on my body, from my toes to my head. His lips kissed me in familiar places and his mouth tasted and explored new places on me.

After an hour or so of pure beauty, he solemnly dressed me and I lay back on the cold floor with him. Sherlock held onto me tightly, as if tonight was my last night with him. You couldn't fit a piece of paper between us. His legs were entertained with mine, his head rested ontop of mine and his arms were locked around my shoulders.

"What is it?" I whispered. "I know that there's something else, something that you're not telling me. Can you tell me?"

"I can't." Sherlock shook his head. "Only time will tell Tammy."

Those were the last words I heard before drifting off to sleep. But a couple of hours later, I awoke to find Sherlock gone and I heard someone bouncing a ball off a cupboard. It didn't take much for me to realize that it was Sherlock. The door to the lab opens and I jump, but I relaxed when I saw it was John who came in.

"Got your message." I yawned and John looked towards me. "Sorry, did we wake you?"

"No, it's all right. I'm resting, not sleeping."

John frowned. "Not much of a difference."

Sherlock caught the ball. "The computer code is key to this. If we find it, we can use it, beat Moriarty at his own game."

"What do you mean, "use it?"

"He used it to create a false identity," Sherlock explained. "so we can use it to break into the records and destroy Richard Brook."

"And bring back Jim Moriarty again."

Sherlock stood up. "Somewhere in 221B, somewhere, on the day of the verdict, he left it hidden." He faces the bench, putting both hands on the cold surface. John stands beside him, unconsciously mimicking his stance. I smile as I file that photo away in my mind. Both of them stare ahead of them, thinking.

John looks at Sherlock. "What did he touch?"

"An apple. Nothing else."

"Did he write anything down?"

"No." Sherlock and I respond in unison.

John raps his fingers on the bench. After a moment, he turns and walks around the room. I yawn and close my eyes, concentrating on Moriarty and everything he'd done in our flat. He had a cup of tea, but didn't leave his chair except to enter and leave the room. Anything I'd have missed couldn't escape Sherlock's memory.

Several hours later, dawn is breaking and I realize that I've fallen asleep again. Sherlock is still in the same place, although he's now sitting down with his feet up on the bench. He is rapidly rolling the ball across the bench, his fingers flickering rapidly over the top of the ball. John has sat on a stool at a nearby bench and has his head down on his folded arms, asleep.

I look at my phone and stand up once I realize that I have 10 minutes to make it to my appointment. I decided not to bother Sherlock and moved towards the door. "Hey?" he called and I spin around. "Where are you going?"

"My doctor's appointment."

He nodded. "Right." He glances at me. "Don't go walking out in the rain anymore. You catch the flu so easily."

I smile. "Can't promise anything."

I turned and walk away. "Tammy?"

I turned to face him again. "Yes?"

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Come and kiss me before you go."

I was surprised, but I didn't question him. I approached him, leaned over and kissed him. Sherlock pulled me into his lap, so I was straddling him. His hands cupped my hips as he kissed me deeply. Something told me not to break this kiss, but Sherlock broke it for me. He smiled and lifted me from his lap. "See you later."

I nodded. "All right." I turned and walked away.

"Hey!" I spun around at him.

"Yes?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. I just…wanted to get another look at you."

I smiled broadly at him. The day before the world had fallen around our ears, Sherlock had watched 'A star is born' with Judy Garland and James Mason. He hadn't been overly fond of it, but he tolerated it for me. "So you were paying attention after all."

He shrugged. "A little. Now go." I nodded and walked out of the lab. With each step, I had a weird feeling that this was going to be the last time I saw Sherlock alive.

My doctor's appointment wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Since it was my first time as their patient, they had to do _everything_. The doctor was friendly, but not very talkative, which allowed my mind time to wander.

"I'll go down and check with the lab about your test results."

"Ok. Thank you."

I fidget in my seat as he closes the door leaving me in the office alone. I run my hands over my legs. Suddenly, a cold, dead, sick feeling welled up inside me. Something was wrong. I reached for my phone and it went off in my hand. "Hello?" I spoke anxiously into the phone. "Is something wrong?"

"Tammy?" it was John and he sounded worried. "Where is Sherlock?"

"Last I saw, he was in the lab, why? John, what is it, what's wrong?"

"You need to find him Tammy!" he said. "Mrs. Hudson is all right."

I frowned. "What was wrong with Mrs. Hudson?"

"I got a call that she'd gotten shot." I gasped and jumped out of my chair. "She wasn't, she's fine. It was a decoy to get Sherlock alone!"

"Oh God." I tore out of the room and ran down the hall. "I'll call you back when I find him!" I flung the lobby door open and hit the doctor. "I'm sorry!" I said. "There's an emergency and I've got to go!"

"You haven't paid!"

"Talk to John Watson!" I shouted over my shoulder. "I'll pay him back! Have molly Hooper text me the lab results!"

"Ma'am, wait a minute!" He shouted. "You shouldn't be running in your-

I slammed the door on the doctor and raced towards the lab. My heart was pounding in my throat and the short run to the lab seemed to take forever. I threw the lab door open and I found Sherlock was gone. It was then; I realized why things had been so different between us last night. I _could _have been the last night. For Sherlock had gone to confront Moriarty.

* * *

**Uh-oh. We all know what's coming!**


	51. 51: The fall

Chapter fifty-one

The fall

I'd called Sherlock four times, each time; he refused to pick up. Something was wrong, he never, ever, refused to pick up his cell phone. I ran out into the street and looked for a taxi. I saw one approaching and slowing down so I ran towards it, just as John came out.

"John?" I called. "I can't reach him!"

John picked up his phone. "Here he is." I exhaled as John answered his phone. "Hello?"

I groaned. "Why didn't he answer me?"

"Hey Sherlock, are you okay? Tammy is really concerned."

John reached me and took ahold of my elbow. I heard Sherlock's voice, it was loud and frantic. "Turn around and walk back the way you came."

"No," John said. "I'm coming in."

"Just…do as I ask. Please."

I stop and look at John. "Do as he says, something is very wrong."

John puts the phone on speaker so we can listen together as we backtrack towards the taxi. "Where?"

Ten steps and then Sherlock orders. "Stop there."

"Where are you?" I asked. "Sherlock."

"Ok, look up." Then Sherlock spoke the words that almost stopped my heart. "I'm on the rooftop."

I looked up and covered mouth as my heart stopped. "Oh God." John's voice was full of horror.

I grabbed onto John's arm for support. "Sherlock." I asked him calmly though my heart was beating in Samba time. "Come down, now. You're scaring me."

"I, I, I can't come down so we'll just have to do it like this."

John, being a doctor must have had more experience in this sort of situation. "What's going on?" He tried to keep his voice calm, but I could hear he was anxious for Sherlock.

"An apology." I stared up at Sherlock in shock as his voice came over the speaker. "It's all true."

"What?" John asked in disbelief.

"What's true Sherlock?" I asked.

"Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty."

"What?" I gasp out. "Stop it Sherlock. Just, stop it."

John is able to speak out. "Why are you saying this?"

"I'm a fake." My heart feels as if it's being squeezed in a vice as I heard Sherlock's voice break.

"Sherlock."

"The newspapers were right all along." Sherlock's voice then became full of tears. "I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson and Molly." Tears filled my eyes and I could feel my heart begin breaking in my chest. "In fact, tell anyone who will listen to you. That I created Moriarty for my own purposes."

"Okay, shut up, Sherlock. Shut up." I nodded at John's words. "The first time we met, the first time we met, you knew all about my sister, right?"

Sherlock laughed shortly. "Nobody could be that clever."

"_You_ could."

Sherlock is silent for a long time before he admitted. "I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you." Sherlock sniffed. "It's a trick. It's just a magic trick."

"Sherlock," I spoke into the phone. "I was a total stranger!" I gripped John's hand tighter. "There is _no_ way on earth you could have known what you did about me."

He was silent before saying. "I found out about you from Mrs. Hudson, I knew you were coming."

"No, you didn't. You're lying, I know you are!" I said. "Sherlock, please, get off the ledge. If you love me, then you'll come down."

He was silent before responding. "I don't." I felt as if someone had hit me upside the head of those words. "If I did…I'd find it easier to…say that I loved you. But how can you love someone, when you bought them?"

His words were like an icicle being stabbed into my heart. "Sherlock."

"I bought you….for the price of a wedding band."

"Stop it Sherlock!" I cried out. "Why are you doing this?"

"You wouldn't give me what I wanted, so I married you." The blood pounded in my ears and I turned to John, he was properly horrified as well. "Your brother was right ….I only married you for sex." I covered my mouth to keep from throwing up. "You're not good for much else."

"No." John spoke up as he wrapped an arm around my unsteady waist. I could only stare up at Sherlock's figure in shock. "Alright, stop it now."

John moved forward a few steps, but Sherlock's voice stung like a whip as it came over the phone. "No, stay _exactly_ where you are! Don't move!"

"Alright." John took a few steps back, his hand raised as if in surrender.

Sherlock was hyperventilating. I could hear him breathing rapidly. "Please," I croaked out. inspite of his cruel words, I was still concerned for him. "calm down."

"Keep your eyes fixed on _me_." Sherlock had his hand outstretched towards John. His voice becomes frantic. "Please, will you do this for me?

"Do what?" John asked.

"This phone call, it's, uhm,... it's my note." My heart stopped at the word, 'note.' "That's what people do, don't they? Leave a note?"

John shifted his phone in his hand. "Leave a note when?"

"When they commit suicide." I said frantically. "Sherlock. Please."

"Goodbye, John." Sherlock said.

"No." John begged. "Don't. Not in front of your wife."

"Sherlock." I pleaded. "Wait! Please listen!"

I looked up as his hand dropped from his ear, and his phone fell to the ground. Sherlock looked ahead to the horizon. "No! Sherlock!" John shouted.

"Sherlock! Please!" I screamed. "Don't!" I turned to John. "Oh God! Please! Let this be a nightmare!"

Sherlock stretched his arms out, and then in slow motion, he fell off the roof. I screamed. "Sherlock!" John stood there in shock and I did for a moment, but the natural instincts of a wife, caused me to run towards his falling body. My body was ice cold and I didn't hear anything, nor could I see anything but my husband's body plummeting to the ground. I pushed past people, casting them aside. I'd never wished harder that I were Peter Pan in my life than I did at that moment. That would be the only way to stop him from falling.

"Tammy!"

John shouted behind me. but I didn't hear John, I really only heard a sickening thud that stopped me dead in my tracks. I felt John's hand on my shoulder and I turned towards him, just as a stupid cyclist hit us. We were both knocked down and I cracked my elbow on the ground hard.

I screamed, knowing I'd broken it. John was dazed and I rolled up. Sherlock's body was being swarmed with hospital staff and I somehow was able to haul myself up from the ground and stumble forward. I could hear John faintly behind me.

"Sherlock?" I called out as I moved towards his fallen body. Hospital staff restrained me and I pleaded. "He's my husband. Please!"

My pleas were futile and I could only look on as they rolled Sherlock over on his back. He was bleeding, his face was lying in a pool of blood.

"Oh, God, no." I sank to the ground where Sherlock had fallen. I cried out. "God, no!"

Satan or God, I know both of them heard me as I screamed to both heaven and hell the anguish I felt. I looked down at the ground, finding I'd placed my hands in Sherlock's blood. I cried as they lifted his limp body onto gurney. My cries grew louder and I don't know how long I sat there in the street. I felt nothing. Nothing, except this sense of pain, loneliness, anger, deepest loss and the tragedy of a love that was lost to me forever. Those emotions consumed me completely. I'd never felt anything like this before in my life.

I felt John's hands on my shoulder's pulling me up from the ground. "Why?" I screamed. "Why!? Oh, dear God why?!"

"He's… gone Tammy." John croaked through his tears.

I shook my head. "No. no. no." I pulled away from him and covered my mouth. "He _can't _be!" I began screaming loudly. "He _has to be here_!" I wrapped my uninjured arm over my waist. "He can't leave me now! No!" I ran towards the hospital. "Sherlock!"

John caught my arm. "Tammy."

I was pulled into a tight hug and I cried as the rain poured down on both of us. I couldn't believe this. What nightmare from Hell was I living in? Why couldn't I wake up? Why? Why?

I grabbed onto John's coat tightly and cried. He brought me to the ground on my knees as I sobbed uncontrollably. It always rained when things went wrong. "I'm here." John assured me through his own tears. "I'm here."

My phone went off in my pocket and I grabbed at it, hoping somehow that it was from him. To my dismay, the message was from Molly. The subject read; _Congratulations_! I opened it and read the short text. _You're going to be a mother Tammy!_

I dropped my phone in shock and shook my head. Those words, could have cheered me up any time, but this time, it drove me to my hands and knees. "No!" I cry out to the heavens. "No! Why? Why?" I hit the ground in anger. "Damn you Sherlock Holmes!"

"Tammy?" Poor John, even in the midst of his suffering, he was looking out for me. "Calm down."

"I'm…pregnant John." The words burst out of me with the ocean of tears that I feared would never cease. "I'm carrying….his baby."

John's grip grew limp around me and his face went a sick gray. "Oh Tammy…no. you can't be."

"I…am."

My asthma caught up with me and I felt myself hyperventilating through my sobs. I gasped for air, but I couldn't calm down. John helped me up and led me into the hospital. I looked towards the blood on the ground as I came up the steps. "Don't… be dead." I pleaded as I was helped inside the hospital. "Just…don't let him be dead." I begged as I sank to the ground in exhaustion. "Don't let him be dead."

I couldn't stop chanting those words like a prayer. Those words consumed my thoughts, heart and soul and I prayed endlessly for those words to come true. But they couldn't come true for me.

* * *

**I just observed that is going to be my longest fic ever! 50 chapters! I've never written anything this long before and I've still got a long way to go! And 100 lovely reviews, an average of 2 reviews per chapter!**


	52. 52: I killed Sherlock Holmes

Chapter fifty-two

I killed Sherlock Holmes

I awoke to find myself in a private, hospital suite and Mrs. Holmes had fallen asleep in the chair next to my bed. I sat up, hoping not to disturb her as I looked around the suite. My clothes were hanging on a coat hanger nearby. I swung my feet out of bed and crept quietly towards them. I hated hospitals, and I hated that I was in one even now. There was a changing screen and I got dressed behind there. My elbow was killing me, but compared to the pain pressing on my heart, it was a dull ache.

I then walked casually out of the hospital; no one took any notice of me. And I made it outside of the hospital as a black limousine pulled up in front of the hospital. I glanced at it as I looked around to hail a taxi. The door opened and I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around and found myself looking into Mycroft's face.

"Tammy, what are you doing out of the hospital?"

"I snuck out." I replied. "I'm going home."

"You shouldn't go back there yet."

"It's where I want to be." I moved his hand off my shoulder. "Excuse me."

"You don't have money for a taxi." He stated. "You couldn't even pay your hospital exam yesterday."

"Then I'll walk home."

"Now, wait a minute," he caught ahold of my elbow as I turned to walk back to Baker's Street. "I can't let you do that." He said. "Let me text mother that you're going home. Rather rude of you to leave her there alone."

"I didn't want to disturb her."

"Get in the car." I nodded and did as he asked. There was a dark haired woman in the car, and she didn't even bother to look up from her cell phone at me. I tapped my fingers impatiently on my legs, waiting for Mycroft to get inside the car. He did and he asked. "Move to front seat will you?" the woman nodded and relocated to the front seat without a word. He then told the driver to take me to Sherlock's house, even hearing his name wanted to make me burst out into tears or fall down and die. "Now, don't worry about your hospital bills, I've taken care of your expenses."

"Thank you." I said as I looked at the floor.

"So," this was awkward for Mycroft, I could tell. He was a Holmes though, that made him an expert on hiding his emotions. "how did your examine go? I trust you're getting over the flu now?"

"I never had the flu." I bit out. "Thank you for the painful reminder that I am carrying Sherlock's baby as we speak."

"What?" Mycroft jumped. "You don't mean, oh, dear God. I am so, so, sorry."

"Where is he?" I asked.

"Why?" Mycroft sounded a little wary.

"I want to see him one last time."

Mycroft shook a sober face. "I am sorry Tammy. I can't let you see his body. I've taken care of all the arrangements for his body; you can set your mind at ease. It's best that you remember him the way you saw him last."

"Last?" I stood up as tears rolled down my cheek. "I saw him, on the ground, his head covered in blood. That was the last time I saw him. And you want me to remember him like that?"

Mycroft's face was shocked for him. "You saw his body?"

"Saw it!" I wrapped my uninjured arm around my waist. "I had the distinct privilege, of seeing him jump off the roof and hearing his body hit the ground!"

Mycroft shook his head sympathetically. "I am sorry Tammy. He shouldn't have done that in front of you."

Tears brimmed my eyes. "I don't mind that. It's…what he said to me."

Mycroft prodded gently. "What did he say?"

"He said…he…didn't love me. That…he only married me for…sex and, I wasn't ….good, for anything else…but that." I started crying. "Why?" I demanded. "Why? Why did he do that?"

Mycroft rubbed my shoulder. "Don't ask me Tammy."

"You're his brother!" I shouted. "You should know him! I knew him for about 2 years! You grew up with him!"

"And you were his wife." He said as he scooted towards me and wrapped his arm around me, tugging me into his chest. "I don't know why he said those things to you, but please, believe me, he loved you. I could see it." My sobs grew quieter as I listened to his words. "I could see that in his eyes the first time I saw you. When you dressed me down in front of him, he was staring at you one would eye a piece of chocolate cake." I sniffled and smiled. "I swear, if you two were married, he would have dragged you into his bedroom that instant. You know that man, who assaulted you during the Adler incident?"

I groaned, remembering my near escape. "How could I forget?"

"Sherlock tracked him down, broke every single finger in his hand."

I bolted upright and looked at him. "What? I never knew that. Why'd he break his fingers?"

"Said if he couldn't keep his hands to himself, then he didn't deserve the pleasure of using them." I stared at him in shock. "When you came over to my parent's house, I could tell that he tried to have his way with you in the library." I closed my eyes, my mind traveling back to the moment where he'd had me backed up against the wall, hunger in his eyes and voice. "I'm surprised that he didn't get your virginity that night."

"He didn't try anything. He just…held me."

Mycroft smiled. "And Buckingham Palace," I laughed as I remembered Sherlock, wearing only a sheet. "he was so jealous, especially when you got those roses. He especially didn't like it when you took your coat off, most attractive dress though."

"That Adler woman," I said quietly. "I-I never understood what…he saw in her, really. But then, he….he told me that, he loved me, in front of you and her. But he'd acted so….depressed when she died. I-I didn't know where I stood with him."

"You should have heard him when you want up to get dressed."

"What did he say?"

"He told Adler, that you were three times a lady and he loved you. You didn't have the highest IQ, but you completed the parts of himself that he was lacking. He also said he was planning on proposing to you that night and he was extremely mad at us for putting you out of humor. But he said he knew just how to get you to calm down and he had no doubt that you were going to accept him."

I shook my head and looked down at my wedding ring on my hand. "I'm not really good at saying no, especially when it came to him."

"He was never good at saying, 'I love you,' consider yourself lucky Tammy. he never really even said to Mummy." The car stopped and Mycroft got out and opened my car door. I stared up at the familiar building as he helped me out. "At your wedding, I did want to know something. Did you really ask Sherlock to deduce what color underwear you were wearing?"

I nodded as tears began to build in my eyes. "I did. I wanted to…give him a taste of his own medicine."

"Did he ever figure it out?"

I shook my head. "I wasn't expecting to see him again, so I had Angelo tell him the color, then we he saw me again…he told me the color." I shook my head. "I thought, when I first met him that…the only thing attractive about him were his eyes. And now, I'd give anything, just to see him one more time."

Mycroft reached into his pocket and pressed a cold item into my hand. "I was able to get this for you." I looked down to see it was Sherlock's cellphone. I ran my hand over it as Mycroft pressed Sherlock's scarf into my hand. "I had his scarf cleaned and I had the code on his phone removed. He'd want you to have them."

"Thank you Mycroft." I wiped my eyes again. "I'm sorry, I can't seem to stop crying."

Mycroft hugged me. "Understandably." He exhaled. "I'm glad to know that …he at least died loved. That's the most that anyone could ask for."

"But…it would be nice to let your last words be words of love. He-he promised that…when he died, he'd say he loved me one more time. I-I don't know why he did."

"He was out of his mind Tammy, he said cruel things to you." Mycroft reminded me. "You wouldn't expect him to change his mind and say that he loved you after degrading you?"

"I guess not." I sniffled and pulled away. "I need to go now."

"Want me to go with you?"

I shook my head. "No. but, I do thank you. I-I needed to hear those things."

He hesitated and then said slowly. "I don't know if I should tell you this, but, you're going to find out anyway."

I steeled myself. "What is it?"

"Moriarty is dead."

I stared at him. "Good. How?"

"He was found on the rooftop, he'd committed suicide."

"What rooftop?" I asked. But then, I knew instantly. "The same roof Sherlock… jumped from?" he nodded. My mind reeled. "How? How did he die?"

"Gunshot wound through the head, self-inflicted."

I stared at Mycroft as my world spun. I began pacing, very much like Sherlock did, fanatically back and forth. He was saying something to me, but I couldn't hear him. my mind was reeling, words from the past came rushing up to me, drowning my ears.

_I thought it'd be obvious. You are going to burn the heart out of Sherlock by breaking his heart. _I remembered Moriarty's voice over the phone that night Sherlock and I'd first shared at bed together. _Congratulations sister, he's never let his guard down for anyone but you. I don't know why, you're not very intelligent. _You're jealous. _I'd told him when he'd prepared to leave the flat. Had I been right? Had he been jealous of what Sherlock and I shared together? _Because no matter what you do, you will never, ever, have what Sherlock and I share.

_Do you want that baby or not? _Why'd he do that? Sherlock hadn't really been interested in having children, but that day, he'd really put an effort into getting me pregnant. Had he known he was going to die and he wanted me to have a child to remember him by? Last night, it had been our last night. He was committing every inch of me to memory, telling himself that he was going to pay for my protection with his life. But why lie, why say such hateful things? _What better way to burn someone than by hurting the one that someone loves deeply? _My words, now stuck in my head. Oh, God! Had I just used my own words to predict this incident! But the burn was on Sherlock and I. We'd both been burned. It must have hurt Sherlock to say those words and I'd been left with an eternal burn after hearing those words.

_Learn to because I owe you a fall, Sherlock._ A fall. Sherlock and Moriarty had been on the roof together. Had Moriarty forced Sherlock to jump from the roof? Had he made him say all those terrible words?_ And Tammy won't always be around to solve riddles for you. _That had been a threat. He'd threatened me. Sherlock, he must have jumped, to protect me. _You cursed the day I was born. Be sure you cursed the day that you met Sherlock Holmes._ Oh, Lord have mercy, I had! I'd cursed him so many times yesterday in my despair.

_"__Tammy?" _John's voice jarred me out of my 'mind palace' as Sherlock had put it._ "You shouldn't' be out of the hospital."_

_"__It's my fault." _I cried as I turned towards him._ "I killed him!"_

_"__Tammy!" _John reprimanded me sharply._ "Don't think like that!"_

_"__I did!" _I insisted._ 'It's my fault. I should have never, ever married him!" _I covered my mouth._ "Moriarty warned me that I'd curse the day I was born! He warned me not to marry him! I was __the only __thing that could protect Sherlock!"_

_"__Tammy," _Mycroft said._ "stop it. Now."_

I shook my head._ "I killed him! I killed him! He jumped…to protect me, somehow."_

_"__From what?"_

_"__I don't know!" _I leaned into John for support and he obliged me_. "And __that __is going to kill me! I don't know why! What was his secret? What!? What did I miss?"_

_"__We must get her inside." _Mycroft said and he surprised me by picking me up._ "Get the doors John."_

John nodded._ "Of course."_

Mycroft asked._ "How long is she going to be like this? She used to be such a strong woman."_

_"__And she will be strong again." _John said, his own voice breaking_. "It's not uncommon for someone to have lost a loved one to blame themselves in times like this."_

The words that were spoken afterwards didn't really penetrate my mind. One thought was in my mind. I'd killed Sherlock Holmes. I had. John and Mycroft could deny the obvious, but I knew what they refused to acknowledge the truth. By forming an attachment to him and him to me, I'd destroyed him.


	53. 53: Never say goodbye

Chapter fifty-three

Never say goodbye

Every day was a little death for me, as Sondheim would put it. Every day, I felt pain because of every little thing that reminded me of Sherlock. I wanted so desperately to forget, but it was impossible to go a moment without thinking of Sherlock. When Sherlock had claimed me in marriage, he'd claimed me body and soul. My brain was simply filled with him, his voice and I could feel him around me. I couldn't walk the streets without remembering him! He'd done things in such an elaborate way that I would never be allowed to forget him.

My flat, was where we had our wedding ceremony. Sherlock's flat, that alone told you how many memories I had. The yellow smile was gone from the wall, but the bullet holes remain. His refrigerator, I hadn't dared to open for fear that I'd start crying or laughing over somebody's heart or head.

I slept in his bed, usually in one of his shirts, and I'd grown accustomed to sleeping on his side of the bed. I didn't do much, I just sat around in his shirt and robe, scrolling through his phone. There were dozens of pictures of me on there that I hadn't realized that he'd taken. I'd be reading, doing dishes, cleaning, or talking with John, or doing something like biting my nails.

There were even a few shots of me in my wedding dress. Somehow, he'd been able to snap a photo of him sucking the chocolate frosting off my finger. In my happiness, I must have been concentrating only on him. there was even a photo of me heading into the bathroom to wash my makeup off on our wedding night. Several shots of me sound asleep in bed together. A few, were rather shocking for me to view, for I wasn't dressed in most of them and I was exposed to his camera. Still, there was a beauty to them, I guess. I was asleep in all of them and I was in his arms in most of them. He'd hold me close to my chest and there was a look of contentment there that surprised me.

There wasn't anything ugly or perverse about his photos. They each had little titles. For example: 'My sleeping beauty' or 'My little mermaid,' the mermaid title was attached to the photo of me in the Jacuzzi on our honeymoon. The last photo he'd taken of me was when we'd fallen asleep together in the lab. Sherlock had taken a photo of me, wrapped in his coat and he'd called it, 'My reason for living'. That alone told me the truth of where his heart had been that night.

A week passed and I slowly became in tune with reality again. Kitty's newspaper had published a story about Sherlock, calling him the 'fake' hero. I called them up and warned them. They in turn, wrote a story about me. SHERLOCK HOLMES SECRET MISTRESS! They blew it there, I purposely didn't mention that I was Sherlock's wife, knowing that they'd twist it into something ugly. And they did. I immediately had my lawyer file suit against them, he was certain that we'd win.

People, everyone who knew Sherlock, sent me flowers and condolence cards. Within the first day of Sherlock's death, I had gotten letters from almost every person that Sherlock had helped. Sherlock's will stated that he wanted a private burial if he died. Only John, Mrs. Hudson and I were permitted to attend. His family was not allowed, but if I wanted, they could be allowed. His family had attended at my request, because it hadn't felt right.

Today, a week after his death, John, Mrs. Hudson and I stood together over Sherlock's black marble headstone. Our flowers rested at the base of the headstone. I couldn't think of a single words to say, so I was glad when Mrs. Hudson spoke. "There's all the stuff, all the science equipment. I don't know what needs doing. I thought we'd take it to a school." She looks to John. "Would you?"

"I can't go back to the flat again," John said. "Not at the moment."

"I'll take care of it." I said quietly. "He was my husband."

"Oh Tammy." Mrs. Hudson said. "You really should get out of the flat."

I shook my head. "It'd be like leaving a part of my heart behind at the moment. I can't. he won't let me be." I exhaled. "He won't…let me be. He just…fills my brain, every, waking minute."

Words died on me and I covered my mouth and shook my head. John spoke quietly. "I'm angry."

Mrs. Hudson patted his shoulder. "It's okay, John. There's nothing unusual in that, that's the way he made everyone feel. All the marks on my table and the noise. Firing guns off at one in the morning."

"Yeah." John and I both nodded in agreement.

"Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine! Keeping bodies where there's food." I started to smile as Mrs. Hudson's tone changed to anger. "And the fighting! Drove me up the wall with all his carryings on!"

"Yeah, listen." John said. "I'm not actually that angry, okay?"

"Okay. I'll leave you two alone to.…you know."

I stepped away as well. "I'll give you a few moments alone John. Then…I'd like to talk to him."

I stepped far enough to give John his privacy, but I could hear his voice faintly. He tried speaking a few times, but he did find his voice, he moved me to tears. "You... you told me once that you weren't a hero. Umm, there were times I didn't even think you were human. But let me tell you this, you were the best man, the most human... human being that I've ever known, and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, so there." He stepped forward and rested his hand on the tombstone. "I was so alone, and I owe you so much." John started to walk away, but then he stopped and turned around. "Oh, please, there's just one more thing, one more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be... dead. Would you do that just for me? Just stop it. Stop this."

John's shoulders dropped and he fought back tears of his own and didn't succeed. I walked towards John and touched his shoulder. He squeezed my hand and I nodded. "Thank you John."

"I'll give you…your privacy. We'll wait for you."

I shook my head. "I'm going to be here…a while. Go ahead. I'll be fine."

He cleared his throat. "Are you sure?"

I nodded. "I need to talk to him, shout at him for a bit. I know he can't hear me," I cleared my throat. "but then, he tuned everyone out when he wanted to, didn't he?"

John nodded as he leaned forward and kissed my brow. "Don't be long."

I nodded. "I won't." John walked away, giving me privacy. I knelt and placed my hand on Sherlock's tombstone. For a long time, I couldn't find the words, then, they started slowly bubbling out of me. "Uhh, I don't…accept any of this, Sherlock. I don't, want to believe that you're dead. You…you promised that before you'd die that you'd say you loved me. And…you didn't but…I saw you. I saw you…and you were dead." I knelt and sat down beside the tombstone, leaning against it. tears built up in my eyes. "I know I have to accept that…you're gone. Try, as I might, and wish that you were still alive, I know, that you're not. I don't know why you did that, why you…hurt me." My voice rose with anger and tears. "I don't know what horrible secret you were hiding from me! but for God's sake! I was your wife! No, I was more than that! I was your 'Riddler' as you called me! We worked together! I told you everything and you told me nothing! And that's the problem! I was fine with it! I was fine with it!" I exhaled, regaining my breath. "God help me, I allowed it. I was fine with being in the dark, being accepting of your lack of affection or trust towards me at times because I loved you enough to overlook it. I thought, I knew you well enough, now I see that, I was wrong. I didn't know you that well and if I hadn't allowed my heart to rule my head, I'd have waited and gotten to know you better."

I exhaled. "But I didn't and I'm glad that I didn't because….I wouldn't have traded any moment I shared with you. I just…wish I knew why, what was in your mind when you did that. You broke my heart, but, rest in peace knowing that, I know you had a reason for it. I don't know why, but I suspect Moriarty gave you no alternative. But you wouldn't have killed yourself for purely selfish motives. You were rude, cold, and unfeeling at times, but you were never selfish." I wiped my eyes. "And I believe that the…night before…you knew what you had to do. You told me, not in words, but your actions Sherlock. They told me what was really going on behind your soul. I-I can't thank you yet, because, I don't know what you did. But, thank you for…giving me your child."

I placed my hand over my stomach. "You knew, didn't you? You didn't want the child, but I did. I want to give into grief, but I can't. I won't risk it, I shall be as strong as possible as I can until our child is born. If I miscarry, there is no second chance for me. I have to take care of myself. Can you understand that?" Somewhere, in the windmills of my mind, I heard Sherlock say "Yes," to me. "I hope so." I bit my lip. "I miss you terribly and, I can't loose the one part of you I have left. I will protect out baby, I promise you."

I wiped my eyes and sang quietly. I hadn't sung since he died, I only truly sang when he and I were together. And now, beside his grave, my voice flared to life._How you haunt my dreams, even now, I can feel you_. _In my mind it seems, you are near, you are really here._ I wrapped my arm around my waist and shivered._ Every night it's just the same, I see your face. Every time I close my eyes, I hear you whispering my name. __I exhaled and shook my head, accepting the insanity for forever. _ _If it's a fantasy, then, let it be! Never say goodbye! Never leave me_, _stay forever! _I looked heavenwards and pleaded. _I can live without the days,_ _just find me in the night! Just say you'll never leave my dreams, never say goodbye!_

_So many, secrets you've never shared, secrets I must forgive. __I closed my eyes tightly._ _If I doubted you cared, I doubt I'd live! Never say goodbye! Never leave me, stay forever! _I opened my eyes and traced his name under my shaking fingertips. _Be my angel in the night, don't let the memory die! Just say you'll never leave my dreams, never say goodbye!_

My tears finally broke loose and I cried, but I didn't cry long or hard. It was a brief, short cry, with my head against his tombstone. Suddenly, I had a weird feeling and I looked and to the right of me. The sight that I saw caused my heart to stop cold. I saw a tall figure in the distance. I stood up, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Sherlock?" I called. The figure turned and walked calmly behind the tree. "Sherlock?" I called and I ran in that direction. "Sherlock?!" it had to be him! it looked so like him! I knew him anywhere! But when I reached the tree, the figure was gone and I looked around. I shook my head, convinced it was a figment of my imagination.

I turned and left the graveyard with an eerie feeling like someone was there with me. but that feeling soon left me once I hailed a taxi. The driver, was a kind-hearted, old man and he didn't charge me.

I walked up the stairs with heavy feet, I decided to pack up some of Sherlock's items. I couldn't donate them, just yet. I'd put them in boxes and stack them in his closet. I pushed the door open to his flat and removed my coat.

"You're early." I spun around at the sound of a female's voice and my heart stopped. "I wasn't expecting you to be back so soon."

There, standing in my kitchen, was _the _woman.

Irene Adler.


	54. 54: Don't cry out loud

Chapter fifty-four

Don't cry out loud

"Close the door." She purred. "And do sit down."

I stared at Irene Adler as I walked towards her. "What are you doing here?"

"Sherlock helped me fake my death," she said as she walked towards me. I stared at her. " I for all intents and purposes am dead. I've been living quietly all this time." She looked somewhat sympathetic, as she walked up to me and studied me. "You should eat more, you're loosing weight."

"I've decided that I'd eat more today." I frowned at her. "Why are you here?"

She looked up at me and smirked. "You really don't like me do you?"

"What was your clue?" I demanded. "No! I don't like you! And I never have."

She shoved her hands in her pockets and studied me. "You have no reason to dislike me."

"Really?" I laughed shortly. "I seem to recall a situation where you walked into Sherlock's presence, stark naked as a jaybird and...never mind. To put it straight, you're are everything I don't approve of."

"And you're everything I'm not." She smirked. "You're not like most women, you _do _have a fiery temper. He said you did."

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"I came to pay my respects. We were quite close you know."

I stiffened. "I'm aware of that. He paid enough attention to your naked body to realize that your measurements were the code to your safe."

She laughed. "He was observant. I was really better suited for him. I don't know what he saw in you." Irene sat down and gestured for me to sit down. I did, but I sat opposite her in Sherlock's chair. "He didn't love me you know." She confessed. "It was…dangerous attraction, one might say. How could he not be attracted to a mind like mine?"

"I do not need to hear this Adler."

She ignored me. "I sent him over 60 texts, telling him things like good morning, lets have dinner." Her brow knitted seductively. "I gave him numerous propositions to have sex." My head shot up. "He never responded." I frowned. "John says that Sherlock will try to outlive God getting in the last word. So I guess, he must have really not been interested, or maybe my flirting wasn't good enough. What did you do to him?"

"I never flirted, I teased him, but only when he was teasing me. He said I didn't catch his attention because I dominated his attention the moment I met him. I never had to win his heart or attention once. He wasn't a prize to be won! Even with you in the picture, I never tried to because I thought more highly of myself and him to go after him and make a fool of myself."

She laughed. "Because you knew you couldn't win, so you didn't fight for him." I drew myself up indignantly. "But then, you'd all ready established your position in his heart. I didn't have a chance. Why fight for what you all ready had?" I was quiet as she leaned forward. "You were every he and I weren't that's why he loved you." She stated. "You completed him. Too bad you didn't have longer."

"I'm having his baby." Irene's eyes flashed with sympathy. "I found out five minutes after he….jumped."

"I am so sorry."

"I wish he'd known, but then that only would have made it harder for him." I leaned forward. "I think Moriarty blackmailed him into committing suicide. He wouldn't have killed himself without a reason."

Irene nodded and stood up, slipping her hand into her pocket. "Indeed." She placed a hand on my arm. "Too bad Sherlock isn't here to be able to see his child born."

I looked down at the hand that she was running down my arm. I felt a sharp needle stab into my other arm. "What?" I jump up to find my head is spinning and my vision blurry. "What…is that?" I garbled as whatever was in the needle took effect. My legs couldn't hold me up anymore and I slumped down to my knees.

Irene grabbed ahold of my arms and tugged me towards the bedroom. "Don't worry, you're going to sleep for a few hours and when you wake, you won't remember much of anything."

"But…my baby."

"Don't worry, it won't harm it."

I didn't appreciate her calling my baby an 'it' but I was feeling the affects of what ever it was she'd shot into me. She pushed me onto the bed, grabbing ahold of my dress and pulling it over my head. "What…are you…doing?" I tried to fight her, I wanted to, but there were weights in my muscles and I couldn't lift a finger.

"Putting you to bed." She smirked. "Your friends won't think anything of you sleeping in, considering your grief." She pulled one of Sherlock's shirts over my head and pushes me on my back. She smirked. "You _are very _attractive under all those clothes you wear that are a size too big for you." She leaned forward. "I wouldn't have minded having you for myself."

"No." I slur as Irene hovered over me.

"Shh," she said placing a finger on my lips. "I wouldn't touch anything of his." Her face began to fade from my sight and her voice began to get further and farther away. "Just…sleep and tomorrow, you won't remember a thing."

I did sleep. I fell asleep hard. It was weird. I had a very, very, vivid dream. It involved Sherlock and he'd come back to me.

This dream was so real that I could almost feel his kisses, his hands on me. I begged him to make love to me and he didn't hesitate in satisfying me. I lay there, unable to move, as Sherlock violently made love to me while I cried out his name into the dark. But after satisfying me, he left me again. I cried, begged him not to leave me again. He dressed and walked over to me.

I could feel him run his hand down my cheek, before leaning forward and kissing me deeply. "I'll never leave you Tammy." His ghost said to me. "You swore before God you'd give yourself to no other. And you are…mine!" Darkness again closed in on me, but I heard Sherlock say to me. "I love you Tammy, don't ever doubt that."

* * *

When I awoke, my mind was groggy, but it was still sharp, somewhat. I remembered a little bit from Irene's conversation and I _definitely _remembered Sherlock and my vivid dream. I couldn't remember anything after that dream or in-between those times. I checked the sheets and myself, hoping that it wasn't a dream. But I found my sheets clean and my body wasn't sore. I flopped back on the bed, vowing to hit Irene Adler if I ever came across her again. Of course, her occupation was sex, and the drug must have stimulated my imagination. It was a pleasant dream while it lasted, but waking up after having it was Hell.

The door to my bedroom open and John entered. He smiled uneasily. "Good, you're awake. You slept a long time."

My words came out slightly slurred. "Adler was here."

John's eyes widened. "What?" he came and sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you all right? You look terrible. Did she drug you?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Right." He took my hand and began checking my pulse. "How are you feeling?"

Bile welled up in me and I tore the sheets back. "Sick!" I raced for the bathroom and I didn't miss the toilet as I threw up. John stood beside me and held my hair back from my face as I retched up whatever I had yesterday to eat.

I stood there shuddering as I finished throwing up. John handed me a tissue so I could wipe my mouth. Then, he pressed a cold washcloth over my forehead. "Back to bed."

I shook my head. "No, I've been spending the last week of my life in bed or on the couch."

"Doctor's orders." John helped me back into bed and tucked the covers around my exposed legs. I watched him and he did it all with an impersonal eye. "Now, Tammy, I'm going to go get you some medication and vitamins to help you. I've also got a diet that I want you to follow."

"Thank you John."

"Oh, and I got a call from your lawyer." He frowned. "I've been called as a witness next week?"

I nodded. "Yes. I'm suing 'The Sun,' and we go to trial the first." John groaned. "You can't talk me out of this John."

"Tammy, haven't you been under enough stress?" he asked. "Think of your baby!"

"Every time I think of my baby, I think of the baby's father!" I said. "I will not go on the record as Sherlock's mistress! 'The Sun', has been spewing all this hate about him being a fake. I'm suing them for more than they make in a year."

"Tammy."

"I'm going to need your help John. I don't know how I'm going to make it alone John. I won't loose his baby; it's all I have left of him. But I am not willing to walk around and see Sherlock's name dragged through the mud."

"We don't have that much evidence."

I snorted. "Check your blog and his website again. I asked everyone who knew Sherlock to send in a letter, detailing how he or she found him and how there was no way he could have researched him. The letters have all been sent to my lawyer as evidence. As of yesterday, he's received over a hundred letters. Henry knight, insisted on being called as a witness and I have no doubt he'll give Sherlock a glowing report." My phone went off and I glanced at it. It was an unfamiliar number and I answered it anyway. "Tammy Holmes speaking."

_Mrs. Holmes? This is Rufus Brule._

I stared at the phone and clicked it on speaker. "The United States Ambassador? Why-why are you calling me?"

_I've called to offer my services. _I stared at John, whose mouth was also hanging open. _My daughter, Claudette, and my son Max, your husband found them_

"Are they all right?" I asked. "Sherlock was worried about the mercury contents and the effect it would have on their systems."

_They are, thank you for asking. _He exhaled. _Claudette, won't talk but Max, he was a huge fan of your husband. Followed his blog, and he…cried bitterly upon coming out of his coma to find out he was dead. _Tears filled my eyes. _He wanted to be a spy, but now, he wants to be a detective. He brought Dr. Watson's blog to my attention and, he wants to testify._

I gasped and John grabbed my hand. "What?"

_He says he only saw Sherlock through photographs that Moriarty showed him. He evidentially, threatened my daughter. Said if she didn't scream upon seeing Sherlock, that he'd kill him. _I covered my mouth, attempting to keep from crying. _I am sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry._

"I'm not really crying. I am sad for all you and your family has gone through. I can't thank you enough, thank you, Sherlock is innocent and he deserves to have his name cleared."

_It's the least we can do. Without your husband, we wouldn't be a family anymore. I am sorry for your loss._

"Thank you, for your condolences. And thank you, so much, for your support."

_Good luck. I hope you win. Never liked 'the sun' much._

I laughed. "Neither did I. And please tell Max that, I am sorry Sherlock didn't get to meet him. I was with him when he was investigating their rooms and I could tell that Sherlock was impressed with his quick thinking. Without that linseed oil, Sherlock wouldn't have been able to have found them so quickly. You've seen that photo of Sherlock wearing a deerstalker hat, I assume?"

_Yes._

"Well the truth is, Sherlock hate that hat. He never wore it except for the photos."

He laughed on the other end. _I'd never have known. It really suited his face. Most men look ridiculous wearing that hat._

"You know that, I know that, but Sherlock didn't." I inhaled. "I think that, once the trial is over, so it won't appear to be a bribe, I'll give him a hat. Sherlock had two lying around and I hid both of them, because I thought someday, if I ever met a fan of his, that they'd like it. I think Sherlock would approve of it going to someone who wants to be like him. Tell Max I thank him for his courage and unselfish heart. He's going to grow up to be quite a man when he grows up."

_He'll be pleased. Thank you. I must go, I've got a meeting to attend. _

"I understand. Thank you again." My hands shook as I turned off the phone. I looked at John. "Well, what do you think about that?"

John rubbed his eyes. "If only…Max was conscious when Sherlock was under suspicion."

I bit my lip. "I can't think that way now. I've vowed not to cry out loud anymore and I won't. Do you think we have a chance?"

John nodded. "Yes." He studied me. "I think…this trial may be good for you. I saw a bit of the Tammy that Sherlock saw, she showed her face for a minute."

I shook my head. "She won't show her face for long I fear. But she'll be back some day, when she's happier."

"All right, now, we've got to make plans for the future." John said. "I'll stay in your flat, and keep an eye on you until the baby comes. I'll try to keep you calm but I can't guarantee happy though."

"Can anyone?" I asked bitterly. "Sherlock promised me 50 years of happiness, and look where we are now after being married for roughly four months."

John was silent for a moment. "He'd be so proud of you. Going to battle for him like this."

"I have to win this John." I said. "I can't allow these lies to continue. I'm his wife."

"Widow." John reminded me softly.

"Widow." The word left a bitter taste in my mouth. "Once we win, I promise, I will settle down."

He was silent before saying. "Now we both have something to live for. You, Sherlock's child and saving his reputation. Me, I'm going to help make sure that you're able to accomplish both those tasks."


	55. 55: Baby can't be broken

Chapter fifty-five

Baby can't be broken

I straightened my dark, purple pinstripe suit that I'd worn for Moriarty's trial. I hadn't known why I'd picked purple when I bought it, but now, I was glad I did. While purple wasn't my favorite color, it obviously had been Sherlock's. I walked into the courtroom, feeling confident. The gallery was packed with familiar and unfamiliar faces. But they all had one thing in common. They all knew Sherlock, and he had helped every one of them.

I approached my lawyer, Mr. Cumberland; he was sorting his papers. He spun around and nodded at me. "This is a cinch Tammy. Look at this." He pointed to a laundry basket, revealing hundreds of letters. "These are all from people your husband helped. I read most of them and," he shook his head in amazement. "he was an incredible individual. There is _no _way on earth he could have been a fake. Most of them are in the gallery and there are more outside. I've never had so many people willing to give evidence in his defense!"

I nodded. "I know. He was…wonderful."

"Tammy, they do have a few witnesses, but none as impressive as ours." He lowered his voice. "The ambassador's son, that will pretty much win the case. Good job on keeping that hush-hush. I love watching the other side's face when you pull out a surprise witness. I shall try to keep you off the stand if possible."

I shook my head. "If I get called, I will speak."

"Are you sure?" he studied my face. "It's been only two weeks. They won't hesitate in asking you…painful questions to try to prove that they were right."

"You can't keep me off the stand. I'm the only one who can give truly a glowing report of Sherlock. Moriarty is also my brother, _that _is something that will give our side a huge disadvantage."

Then, the trial began to get underway and the first thing on order of the day was the allegations that I was Sherlock's mistress. When my lawyer presented my wedding certificate, my wedding video and showed my promise, engagement and wedding ring. I could tell by the look on all involved that we'd won that case.

Then, we got to the heart of the trail; the accusations that Sherlock was a fake. The opposite end began to state their opinions and kitty Riley was called to the stage. I could tell that she was extremely nervous about being called on the stand. She then proclaimed that Moriarty was an extremely reliable witness. For a moment, she had the jury in the palm of her hand. Especially when she broke down and cried about what a 'nice, sweet' guy he was. She also insinuated that she wouldn't have put it past Sherlock to have forced Richard shot himself in the head.

They also got Sally and Andersen to testify in their side as well, but they had no actual concrete proof. Sally and Andersen did a great job on twisting Sherlock's image, portraying him as a sick, psychotic, psychopath. But their words couldn't truly disguise Sherlock's genius, no matter how hard they tried.

Mrs. Hudson, Angelo and even Lestrade gave glowing reports. Lestrade had everyone's attention, especially since he was the officer who made the arrest, even when he believed in Sherlock's innocence. John and Henry knight gave the best testimony of all. Henry had the most mind-boggling case and he had everyone wondering at Sherlock. John, he honestly was my eye when I wasn't around Sherlock. Now that I thought about it, there was rarely a moment when Sherlock was truly by himself without either of us by his side.

My lawyer presented all the letters of the witness as testimony and it was accepted. I got called up to the stand and sworn in. the reporters all leaned in and listened as I gave a glowing and beautiful testimony of Sherlock from my eyes, through the eyes of a wife, lover and his partner. Then, I gave the honest truth about Moriarty, the brother I'd grown up with. I painted him for what he was. A dark, conniving, dangerous man. Sherlock's evil twin. I told them about the threats, the blackmail and how he'd even gotten into the jury's hotel rooms and blackmailed them, threatening their family and loved ones.

The whole time, I maintained a composed stance, but I couldn't keep the passion out of my voice. John gave me a subtle thumb up when I finished giving my testimony. But the opposition had one question for me, a question that caused my heart to stop.

"If Mr. Holmes, as you claim, wasn't a fake, why, did he kill himself?" I sat there frozen in my seat. Everyone was stunned at the cruel, insensitive way that the lawyer had spoken to me. "He was intelligent enough, he had a beautiful wife who loved him. You 'claim' he was innocent. But he jumped, can you tell us, why would an innocent man commit suicide?"

My lawyer jumped up. "Objection! My client has lost her husband. This is hard enough for her. This is insensitive and irrelevant to the case."

"Sustained."

"I want to answer that question." I inhaled and found the strength inside me. "I can answer because I know the answer." I leaned forward slightly. "I asked myself why he'd jump from the second he hit the ground. After…wracking my brain for hours, screaming to the heavens for hours, the answer was obvious, right in front of me." Tears filled my eyes and I wiped them away. "I know Sherlock Holmes and according to those who knew him, I knew him the best of all. I'll never forget the first time I met Sherlock Holmes. We weren't formally introduced, our meeting, it was…an accident. I don't know who, surprised whom more when we met. It shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have happened. It truly would have been better if it hadn't happened. For I….killed Sherlock Holmes." Everyone murmured. "Sherlock jumped to protect me. Moriarty had warned me if Sherlock and I married, that Sherlock would be in danger. As you noticed, Sherlock talked me into marrying him regardless." I shook my head. "Moriarty made good on his promise. Sherlock didn't kill himself, I don't know why, but I do know, that Sherlock never thought of anything other than helping people. He was especially protective of me. You can question anyone who happened to see us together, they'll tell you that it was a beautiful thing to see. Sherlock cared about his work and he didn't consider himself a hero. He said once, "Heroes don't exist and if they didn't I wouldn't be one." He didn't even know the earth went around the sun!" Everyone laughed at that. "Now, I know you're all thinking, how could a man so intelligent not know something basic like that? When he explained why, to makes sense to me! Why? Because it doesn't matter! Can anyone come up with a solid reason why we need to know that the earth goes around the sun? No! Because it doesn't matter! Does it affect the way we live? Would we die without knowing that? No! People survived for years not knowing the earth goes around the sun! I'd find a human head in refrigerator because he was measuring the coagulation of saliva after death! _That _mattered! I didn't understand why, but in his line of work, he needed to know. His brain, was his hardrive, and he wouldn't put anything inside that wasn't necessary. It wasn't really showing off. He just knew more than anyone else because he studied the things that no one thought about and held onto that information!"

"So," the lawyer said. "you're basically saying he jumped to protect you. If he was intelligent as you claim, why didn't he find a way out?"

"There isn't always a way out. If there were, we wouldn't have unsolved mysteries. I don't know why he couldn't get out of it, but considering Moriarty was against him, he must have thought up dozens of ways, but he probably realized that he was backed into a corner with no way out."

"Interesting suggestion, but not logical."

"_Anyone _can be a Sherlock Holmes, we're just too stupid and ignorant to actually program our minds like him." I leaned forward and studied the man carefully, remembering little things that Sherlock pointed out. "This, is just a job for you. You ordinarily wouldn't be asking me such questions except judging by your state, I can tell you had an argument with your wife today." Everyone hooted and laughed at me. I followed Sherlock's advice. "You haven't had a chance to have breakfast yet, I can hear your stomach growling. Yet, there's flour on your shoulder, it's been brushed off so I wager that your wife threw something at you. Hmm, probably got tired of being the stay at home wife?" His jaw dropped in surprise and I knew I was right. "Your phone is on vibrate, but you haven't looked at it once. It's vibrated over twenty times. True, you're in the middle of a trial and it wouldn't make sense to look at them, but then, someone could be texting you evidence. But no, you don't look at it, you must know who it's from, but you're avoiding the person. Your wedding ring, you took off your hand and you left it on the table by your papers. A happily married man would either put the ring their pocket to keep it safe or they'd be glancing at the ring, twisting it on their finger. But no, you left it on the table, for all you care it could get stolen or swept to the ground. In fact, you'd knocked it down twice and Kitty picked it up, you didn't even turn a hair. I'd even go a step further to wager that she'd been cheating on you as well. Am I wrong?"

The man glowered at me for a long time before admitting. "No." I exhaled and sat back in my chair as the whole room erupted into cheers and applause at my deduction. "No more questions!" he shouted above the noise.

The judge ordered that silence prevail once again and I shakily made my way down from the stand. I almost collapsed in relief, but I stayed up on my feet. John then made me take my vitamins and drink a whole glass of water and some orange juice. I _hate _orange juice. Then Max was called to the stand, no one dared to breathe as Max told the whole story. He was a very special boy, he paid attention to even the smallest details. As he spoke, he drew everyone in, including myself. His words clearly proved what the world needed to know, Sherlock hadn't been involved and Moriarty was the one behind the whole thing. This was an open and shut case. Everyone impatiently waited for the judge to make his decision. It didn't even take long. 'The Sun' lost their case and everyone shouted and screamed.

I leaned forward and cried into my hands. "We won Sherlock." I breathed quietly. "We won."

John wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "He'd be so proud of you Tammy. I can't believe you actually noticed all that!"

"He was my husband John, I learned from the best."

"Mrs. Holmes?" I looked up to see Max and his father standing beside me.

"Mr. Brule," I stood and shook his hand. "it's an honor to meet you." I wiped my eyes with my spare hand. "I'm sorry."

"I understand."

I looked down at Max, he was a curious boy. I extended my hand. "Thank you so much. You really helped clear up things."

"I was glad to help." He proclaimed. "He saved my life."

I nodded. "It's what he did best." I turned and reached into my bag, pulling out Sherlock's hat. "This…is the hat that Sherlock first wore." I smiled sadly. "He grabbed it to avoid the press and I know for a fact that he wished he hadn't grabbed it. He called it all sorts of names. Death Frisbee. Ear hat. That hat." I laughed inspite of myself. "He always called it 'That Hat,' as if it deserved a title."

Mr. Brule said. "I thought he looked good in it."

I nodded. "Me too. He was a very, handsome and striking man. The photographs don't do him justice, but, his eyes were amazing. The photographs messed the lights up. His eyes were a blend of three different colors. Blue, green and gold." I placed the hat on Max's head. "Now, I know he'd want you to have it. Pay attention to things, I wager you're a real curious boy, aren't you?"

The father groaned. "Don't ask. Hiding Christmas presents has become an art with us."

I laughed. "Sherlock was the same. Picking them was hard enough, but then I swear he could see straight through the wrapping paper! I had the most difficult time getting him to shut up!"

Suddenly, I heard someone shout and scream. I looked up just in time to see a gunman breaking into the courtroom. I pushed Max to the ground as the gun went off! A sharp pain exploded alongside my head and I flew backwards as another pain struck me in the shoulder.

I hit my head on the ground and stars spun before my eyes. There was another gun shot and John covered me with his own body. After a few scary seconds, someone shouted that the gunman was down and John got off of me. I tried to sit up, but John forced me back on the ground. He tore off my coat and called for an ambulance. I smiled. "Nice to have a doctor on the scene."

"Don't talk. They hit an artery." I turned and looked at all the blood gushing out of my shoulder. I looked aside and groaned. "You've got to get out of here Tammy. It's not safe for you to be in London anymore."

* * *

**Merry Christmas everybody! God bless!**


	56. 56: Not a day goes by

Chapter fifty-six

Not a day goes by

I was bored to death. I now see how Sherlock had gotten a thrill out of shooting holes in the wall. the idea, was _very _tempting to me right now. I was moved into a private suite in the hospital, given maximum security while waiting for my body to recover. The gunman, was shot dead in the courtroom. There were no obvious connections, but I suspected he was one of Moriarty's men, wanting revenge. And what better revenge to get me for smearing his boss's name than killing me in my moment of triumph.

In the hospital, I spent most of my time learning Sherlock's phone and I'd become an expert at it. Like the man, his phone was complicated; all sorts of files hidden within special places. I found voice recordings as well, some were recorded during our honeymoon. He recorded every letter that he ever read to me.

Once I was allowed to be discharged, Mycroft had me flown out to the Holmes house. It had maximum security and its location was completely confidential to the media. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes tried to keep me happy, but I wasn't in the mood to be consoled. Mrs. Holmes, was such a sweet woman. She alone seemed to know and understand the depth of my emotions. She climbed into the attic and had all of the family photos and videos brought down for me to view.

Sherlock, was an adorable looking baby! I could just imagine him glowering down at me from heaven as we looked at all those baby photos. You could see that he was a troublemaker, he hated having his pictures taken. He always made a face, or rolled his eyes the moment the picture was taken.

The videos were especially lovely to watch. I could see the rivalry between Sherlock and Mycroft growing up. Mycroft was the friendly one, and Sherlock was off in a class by himself. Sherlock, even at the age of ten, was a very, very, serious kid. His room was always a mess, he was always asking questions, obnoxious questions that were a bit much for a parent to handle.

There were several memorable Sherlock incidents. On Mycroft's twelfth birthday, he was shouting at the camera that Carl Powers had been murdered and they needed to get their (bleeping) minds out of Mycroft's cake and pay attention! Needless to say, he was sent to bed without dinner after that incident! He was a confident teenager, even though he was a loner. He didn't have a girlfriend and he hadn't gone to prom because according to him it was an unnecessary thing in ones life. One would waked up the following morning and be tortured by memories of a thousand stupid things that you'd done the night before.

John, evidentially knew the case and Sherlock was able to solve that case many years later. Evidently, Moriarty had murdered Carl Powers and it was odd to see how their history went back so far together.

John, was the shoulder I leaned on when I needed comfort or words to share. If I had been alone, I probably wouldn't have had the strength to get up in the morning. We got to know each other better, I hadn't realized how rude I'd been to John. But it seemed like from day 1, Sherlock was the man on my mind, heart and head. John was just the man in the background. He was a really, really, wonderful man. Jane Austen had said that the only way to get a man like Mr. Darcy was to make him up. I think that she would have been impressed with John to write a book about him. his kind, gentle manner was so refreshing and I actually felt happy around him, when we weren't talking about Sherlock, which was often.

John and I actually began contacting people, asking for details about how they'd met Sherlock, so we could put the cases together in a book. It was going to a be a huge book, but it would definitely grab people's attention. All things considered, who _wouldn't _want to read about Sherlock Holmes? And it was written by us, the two people who knew him best of all, so it would be honest and truthful.

Mycroft was entertaining. He had a great sense of humor and he always brought me back an occasional little trinket to amuse me. sometimes it was a box of candy, a puzzle to solve or he'd bring back the details to a case for me and I'd have to solve it. of course it was all ready solved, but it occupied my mind. There was something wrong between Mycroft and John, but I had yet to figure out what it was.

Me, I kept busy, tried to keep my mind off Sherlock, but of course, that wasn't to be. Not a day went by, not a single day, for he was still somehow a part of my life and he wouldn't go away. That was my fault, because I desperately held onto every little thing of him I could hold onto, mentally and physically. I wanted to let go, needed to let go of him as the months went on for the sake of our baby. I wanted to start forgetting him, but I just reaching out for a ghost that wasn't there and dying inside when I realized that he was gone.

I was almost full term when John made the grand announcement to me that I was carrying twins. That shocked everyone, but no one was more shocked than i. Now, I would have two wonderful children by Sherlock. After that, I made an extra effort to maintain a positive attitude all the time. Mrs. Holmes kept buying me bright and fun maternity clothes to wear. Unlike most mothers who couldn't wait for their baby to be born and their figure to go back to normal. But things, when you're a Holmes, are never normal.

It was November and I was about two and a half weeks away from giving birth to Sherlock and my stretched on my back, on the couch, reading 'the book.' And when I mean 'the book' I mean the book of love letters that he'd read to me so often. It had become a habit of mine to read a letter every morning right after I woke up and one right before I went to bed. I had experienced some mild cramping this morning, but John had assured me that it was normal.

I groaned and set the book aside as I tried to stretch out my back. "Stiff?" I sat up to see Mycroft walking in, he was holding a box of Angelo's breadsticks, which ordinarily would have set my cravings in motion, but not today.

I nodded. "Yes." I stood up and approached him. "I can't wait to hold the babies."

"Do we know what sex they are yet?"

I shook my head. "John hasn't convinced me into having an ultra sound." Mycroft laughed. "I know, it's silly, but I have a doctor here with me, I'm under close supervision and I don't think it's necessary."

I cracked my neck and Mycroft winced. "You are stiff. Turn around." I did as he asked and I felt Mycroft slowly begin to massage my neck. "Goodness, did you sleep on a table last night?"

I laughed. "Just my bed. It's not so comfortable anymore."

"Yes. Another reason to have the babies, you can get a good night sleep."

"Babies and sleep don't exactly qualify in the same sentence." Mycroft hit a certain spot and I moaned. "Oh, I like that."

He murmured. "I can tell."

I groaned as Mycroft massaged my back. I closed my eyes and let my head loll back slightly. "I like that." I murmur as my mind flashes back to my wedding night. The fingers are firm as they continue massaging my shoulders. "Don't stop. Please." I can see his face before me now. Those eyes, intensely staring deep into my face. A shiver runs down my spine, then, I feel a set of lips on my neck and my body trembles. "Sherlock." His name escapes my mouth before I can stop it. "Sherlock."

The lips pause on my neck and the hands stop. My eyes open and I realize that I am not with Sherlock anymore, I am with Mycroft. I step away, not wanting to look him in the face. Why had he done that? I was Sherlock's wife, widow! I'm a few weeks away from bearing his child! And he…he, well, I hadn't helped things any. I bit my lip and looked at the floor.

"Say something Tammy." Mycroft said quietly. "Anything."

"I-I, I'm sorry." I murmur. "I thought you were….him. Please, excuse me." I turned and walked towards the library door. "So sorry."

"Those babies of yours," I paused with my hand on the doorknob. "are going to need a father. It would be so nice to keep them in the family."

I froze, dead in my tracks as his words sunk in. his tone, had a very, very suggestive note and it wasn't completely lost on me. Sherlock had been upset at Mycroft's advances and his words of warning flooded my ears. I spun around and stared at him. "Are you proposing?"

"Don't act unintelligent Tammy, you take after my brother at times. Of course, I'm proposing to you!"

my mouth dropped open and for the longest time all I could do was shake my head. "Mycroft...I-I can't. I'm not free of him yet. I'm sorry."

"Tammy, you always were a bit dramatic. But think reasonably about this, you were only married to Sherlock for four months." His words slashed me mercilessly. "You really should look ahead to the future. I can protect you, your children and we could live a very comfortable life together. You're a very practical person and when you don't talk yourself into mourning for Sherlock, you seem to forget him. you need to think about what you're going to be doing in a year. You have to think about your children." He stepped towards me. "It's a small chance Tammy, but I do believe that I could make you happy if given half a chance."

"I can't Mycroft. I'm sorry." I whirled around, opened the door and promptly smacked into John.

"Whoa," he said steadying me. "easy Tammy." his eyes narrowed as he took in the emotions of my eyes. "What's wrong?" I jerked my head in Mycroft's direction, not daring to speak. He looked at Mycroft. "What did you do now?"

"Nothing that concerns you." He smoothed his coat. "It was a private discussion."

"He…proposed to me." John's eyes flashed he let out a shout as he launched himself at Mycroft! "John!" I gasped as John tackled Mycroft and began punching the daylights out of him!

"You bastard!" he shouted.

I stood there in shock before waddling as fast as I could into the hall. Mrs. Holmes was coming. "Tammy? I heard a shout."

"John and Mycroft." I said. "They're fighting!"

her eyes flashed and she stomped into the room. Both men were shouting and hitting each other. "Stop this at once!" she shouted and everyone stopped breathing at the anger in her tone. "Now! Get up and stop acting like animals! Honestly! In front of Tammy?" John yanked his coat into place, giving Mycroft a venomous look. "I don't know what happened to cause the two of you to go off the handle."

"Mycroft," John spat out angrily. "proposed…to Tammy."

her mouth dropped open. "Mycroft! You didn't!"

"I did." He said as he held his nose back, John had delivered another one of his world famous bloody noses. "It was for the best."

"I suppose that's what David said to Bathsheba after killing Uriah!" John shouted. "Have you no shame?!"

I stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't need to know." John said. "This is between Mycroft and i."

I studied both men. David had coveted Bathsheba and had Uriah, sent to the front line of the battle so that he'd be killed. After Uriah had died, he took Bathsheba for himself. But why would….my heart stopped. No. it couldn't be what John was implying.

"John…did Mycroft have something to do with Sherlock's death?"

"Not intentionally." Mycroft said.

"Ha!" John laughed bitterly. "Your own brother, and you blabbed about his entire life to…Moriarty!"

I gasped and covered my mouth as Mycroft glowered at John. "I told you that I never intended for things to go the way they did."

My mind was reeling, but it caught up with him. "That's how Kitty knew everything. You told Moriarty?!" I screamed. "How could you!? Your own brother!? You turned him in?!"

Mrs. Holmes grabbed ahold of my shoulders. "Calm down Tammy." but anger resonated in her voice. "What did you do Mycroft?"

"Moriarty was the most dangerous criminal mind the world has ever seen, we interrogated him for weeks, but we couldn't make him talk." He explained calmly. "He wouldn't play along. He just sat there, staring into the darkness. The only thing that made him open up I could get him to talk."

"In return for Sherlock's life story." John spat. "Moriarty wanted Sherlock destroyed, right? So, how do you sell a lie? You wrap it in truth!" He shouted. "You gave him everything!"

"Mycroft!" Mrs. Holmes shouted. "How could you!?"

He genuinely looked sorry, but I wasn't going to forgive him. "You handed Moriarty the ammunition!" I screamed. "It's your fault that Sherlock is dead! Why didn't you just put a bullet through Sherlock's head!? It would have been less painful! You forced him to die! You killed him! after all he did for you!? He gave you Adler's phone on a platter and you repay him by, giving information to his enemy!? I guess no good deed goes unpunished!"

"Tammy, calm down." Mrs. Holmes said firmly. "This isn't good for you."

"I can't calm down!" I screamed. "And you _propose _to me?! I don't like you Mycroft!"

"Your actions earlier indicated otherwise."

"I thought you were Sherlock!" I screamed. "I thought you were him! I don't care if I was only married to him for four months. Does that mean that I don't love him any less?! I loved him!" I shouted. "I loved your brother and nothing in this world would even tempt me to marry you! I'd marry a corpse before I married you!" At that moment, a huge cramp seized me and I screamed as I grasped my stomach. "Oh God!"

Mrs. Holmes gasped. "Your water broke."

"No." I shook my head as John hastened over to me and braced me. "No! I am not having my children here in Mycroft's presence!"

"You don't have a choice Tammy. You were having pains this morning?" I nodded. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought they were normal!" I shouted at him. "I've never had a baby before!"

"Calm down." He said. "Let's get you to your room."

"Sherlock's." I said as they led me out of the library. "I want to be in his room."

"Tammy."

"I want to be in his room!" I shouted. "He's not going to be waiting for me to hold his children. I want to be in his room."

"Ok, Tammy." John soothed. "Just calm down, start your breathing. Mycroft, go to my room, and get my bag, don't touch anything inside it!"

Mycroft took the stairs and we took the elevator. Then, I crept towards Sherlock's room slowly. Each pain nearly caused me to double over with each step. Mrs. Holmes helped me into a nightdress while John prepared the bed.

I concentrated on breathing while John examined me. It was extremely embarrassing for me but I was glad it was John instead of a stranger. After the examine, John shook his head. "Tammy, there's no time to get you to a hospital, your pains are too regular. Your babies are going to be born here. Annette," he was talking to Mrs. Holmes. "Tammy is going to need several cold cloths and water bottles. Do you mind asking someone to fetch them?"

"I'll see to it myself!" She said. "Not going to let the servant's handling this! They're incompetent as it is, and these are _my _grandchildren we're talking about."

I wanted to laugh at her, but I was in too much agony. "This is my fault." I moaned. John gave me a shot of something to dull the pain. "I shouldn't have yelled."

"No. It's Mycroft's." He said firmly as he massaged my back. "He shouldn't have proposed and brought this whole thing into light."

"You knew!" I pointed out. "And you didn't tell me!"

"I was going to tell you, after the baby was born." He said. "But it's been killing me not to tell you."

"I believe you. Oh!" I screamed as another pain hit me hard. "John!"

John held my hand and squeezed it as the pain hit me. "It's ok Tammy, just breathe. I won't leave your side until it's all over. I promise."

"Don't promise me anything!" I shouted. "Promises mean nothing! Sherlock promised he'd never leave me!"

"All right, then I give you my word that I won't leave you." Mycroft came in with John's doctor bag, John took it from him curtly and pointed to the door. "Get out. Now."

Mycroft nodded. "I am sorry about this Tammy."

"Get out of my sight!" I shouted.

Mrs. Holmes took ahold of Mycroft and pushed him out of the room. "Out! I am going to have a talk with you and so is your father!"

I screamed as another pain hit me and John winced slightly. "Sorry." I said through clenched teeth. "It hurts!"

"You have a low tolerance for pain." John said. "But, do mind your vocal chords, you are a singer, remember?" I nodded and he smiled as he placed a cold cloth on my forehead. "Now, try to relax. And let's bring Sherlock's babies into the world together."

* * *

**I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas! Was everyone pleased with the Sherlock Christmas Special? I was! I'm just curious about what happened to Andersen though! I can't wait until January! Must know HOW Sherlock survived the jump.**


	57. 57: Move on

Chapter fifty-seven

Move on

I don't care what anyone said. The movies never, ever, truly hit onto what giving birth felt like. The agony was unbearable and the drugs never truly had time to set in. poor John, I must have been the hardest delivery he'd ever had. I screamed, shouted, cried and even called Sherlock's name in the end. But then, once it was all over, I held Sherlock Hamish Holmes and Linda May Holmes in my arms. It's strange, how this sense deep, powerful and protective love sweeps over a mother the first time she holds her child in her arms.

I was flown out to Bart's just as a precaution. John assured me that I was fine and my two babies were fine, but I should have a specialist check me and the children over. He could deliver a baby, but since I'd refused an ultra sound or anything like that, it would be wise to have a specialist examine me. I was too tired and happy to argue with John.

I was given a private suite, with guards outside my door again. I waited patiently for the doctor to come in, John said a friend recommended him and that he was highly professional.

Sherlock jr. favored his father in features, but he had my eyes and my hair color. Linda, she had her father's eyes, and she was animated, like her father. Sherlock jr. was content to sleep while she let out a wail. "Shh," I soothe as Linda begins to cry. "it's ok." I begin to sing quietly. Don't know why I picked Taylor Swift's 'Never grow up' but it suited the mood.

_Your little hand's wrapped around my finger and it's so quiet in the world tonight. Your little eyelids flutter cause you're dreaming, so I tuck you in, turn on your favorite nightlight. To you everything's funny, you got nothing to regret. I'd give all I have, honey, if you could stay like that. Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up. Don't you ever grow up, just stay this little. Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up. Don't you ever grow up, it could stay this simple. I won't let nobody hurt you, won't let no one break your heart. And no one will desert you, just try to never grow up, never grow up._

Someone taps on the door and I whip my head around to see a man standing in the doorway. He was a doctor and I noticed that second of all. Widow or not, I was still a woman and the fact that he was a man caught my attention first. He wasn't tall like Sherlock; I wager that with my heels, we were almost the same height. His build, though slender, was muscular. He had a winning smile and warm, hazelnut eyes. Those were the first things I noticed about him. He had quite a head of brown hair that was stylized rather nicely. He had attractive facial features. But to get back on track, I could tell right off that he was a good doctor and he cared about his patients.

"Hello. I'm Charles Walker." He walked over to me and sat down beside me. "I'd shake your hand but your arms are very full."

"Yes."

"I apologize for standing there, but I didn't want to disturb you. You've the voice of a siren, you'll sing them into silence easily." He held out his hand for Linda. "May I?"

"Yes, of course." He took Linda carefully, making a few little cooing noise. I smiled as Mr. Baker and I sat together, each holding a baby. "She's a sweetheart isn't she?"

He nodded. "Aren't all children?"

"Until they grow up." I looked down at Sherlock Jr. "And if he turns out anything like his father, I'm going to crazy when he's five!"

He nodded. "Ah, yes. You were married to that detective, weren't you?" I nodded. "Fascinating man, I followed Dr. Watson's blog about him until your husband passed away. Please accept my condolences."

"Thank you." I blew a stubborn strand of hair out of my face.

"Allow me." Charles brushed the hair back out of my face. He had a gentle touch and I smiled at his touch. He smiled back too, seeming to have difficult time focusing on the job at hand.

But when the nurse walked in, he cleared his throat, and resumed a professional stance. "So, Mrs. Holmes, shall we get on with the exam?"

I nodded and he examined me first, he was a doctor, and it should have been impersonal, but it wasn't. There was this…recognition in the air. His touch and eyes kept causing to me to jump and become aware that widow or not, I was still a woman.

He reached for Linda and the nurse took Sherlock Jr. "I'll have them moved to the nursery, but as near as I can tell, Dr. Watson did a great job bringing little Linda and Sherlock into the world. I have to do a few tests though, standard procedure."

I nodded. "I understand."

"If all goes well, I see no reason why you can't go home tomorrow Mrs. Holmes."

"Please call me Tammy. After all, you're my doctor."

"All right…Tammy. But, only if you call me Charles."

I nodded. "All right…Charles."

He smiled broadly. "I shall see you in the morning then. Dr. Watson is outside, are you too tired to receive him?"

I shook my head. "No. Send him in, please."

"All right." He and the nurse walked out of my suite. "She'd like to see you Dr. Watson."

"Thank you." I smiled and waved at John as he walked in. "Hey. How are you doing?"

"Fine." I tapped the corner of my bed. "Aren't they beautiful children?"

John nodded. "Very," his eyes saddened slightly. "they look like him, don't they?"

I nodded. "Yes." I bit my lip and answered. "John, what do you think…Sherlock would think if I were….to…remarry?" his brows rose and I added hastily. "I haven't met anyone yet, but, it…crossed my mind. I'm not going to remarry out of necessity, but, for love of course, as I married Sherlock."

John was silent for a long time. He leaned back, rubbing his brow thoughtfully before saying. "I think…he'd want you to be happy."

I ran my hand over his. "You too John. He wasn't selfish in that way."

John squeezed my hand. "So…is, today the day we…move on?"

I nodded. "Yes John. I just gave birth to two children. I can't afford to wallow in my tears and grief anymore. You aren't going to have me to protect and look over." I bit my lip. "Tomorrow, I move back to Baker Street."

John's head shot up. "Are you going to live there?"

I shook my head. "Only for the time being. I need to find new accommodations." I exhaled. "I'll pack up Sherlock's items, put them in storage, for I don't have the heart to get rid of them just yet. Maybe, in a few years, if Max is still quite the detective, I'll give him Sherlock's things."

"That's good." John cleared his throat and looked at his watch. "You need to rest. I'll stop in tomorrow."

"Oh, where is the rest of the Holmes clan?"

"Probably outside admiring Tammy and Sherlock."

"I bet Mrs. Holmes was happy."

"She's been as peppy as a jumping bean. Oh," John smirked. "your father-in-law, went as far as reporting Mycroft to his superior about leaking private and personal information that cost someone their life. He's currently being suspended from his position."

My mouth dropped open. "You're kidding!"

"I am serious! I never knew what Mr. Holmes thought of you, but he must think very highly of you to report his own son like that."

"Or," I reasoned. "he wanted his son to get a taste of what it feels like when your life is falling down around you. Just like he did to Sherlock."

"Everyone gets their just rewards." John said. "I just didn't know anyone who had the power to give Mycroft his!"

* * *

The following morning, Sherlock, Linda and I were given a clean bill of health. I hadn't seen Charles, so I pushed him out of my mind and John and I left the hospital. Mrs. Holmes had bought me a new set of clothes to wear so I didn't have to wear my maternity clothes. She told Mrs. Hudson to expect me and she invited Molly over to the flat to see the children.

"Tammy!" I spun around to see Charles running behind me, his white coat streaming from behind him. He tripped on the steps but caught himself.

"You must have made an impression." John murmured.

"Shut up John." I muttered. He snickered as Charles approached, smoothing his hair back into place. "Hello."

"Hi." He cleared his throat. "I, er, uhm, didn't get a chance to say goodbye to you."

John discreetly walked down the steps, holding onto Linda to flag down a taxi. I flushed. "I'm flattered…you remembered me."

"I doubt if it'd be possible for me to forget you." He reached into his pocket and handed me a card. "Here's my number. Call me if you need help with anything."

I hesitated. "I have John."

"Right! I meant…most mother's are a bit….nervous about their children."

I looked at the card. "Do you proposition most new mother's like this or only the single ones?"

"No!" He ran his hand through his hair and shifted uncomfortably. "This is _not _going well." He inhaled and exhaled. "I know that you've been a widow for…eight months?"

"Seven." I said. "I loved my husband very much."

"I know that." He exhaled and ran his hand through his hair. "I-I'm doing this badly aren't I?"

"yes." I smiled at his discomfort. "But it's rather endearing watching you trip over your feet so to speak."

He chuckled. "Sorry, I know this is a bit awkward for you, but it is for me too. So, why don't we just…be friends and see how things go in a couple of years? I'm not asking for a romantic attachment or anything connected romantically, but," he groaned. "oh, I'm not sure how to describe it."

But I knew exactly what he was trying to say. "Let's just say," I replied quietly. "that there's….obviously something here."

"Yeah," he looked at me, studying me. "so…you felt it too? It wasn't just me, was it?"

I shook my head. "It wasn't. I noticed it too." Biting my lip, I held my hand out for his card. "I'll consider it, but I can't promise anything. I mean…John should get out more and he shouldn't think of himself as my protector."

Charles nodded. "Yes, he's been trying not to notice your nurse Mary and failing miserably." He reached into his pocket and handed me a piece of scrap paper.

"What's this?"

he smirked. "Her number. And put his mind at ease, she's definitely interested in him."

"How do you know?"

"Mary, isn't much of a talker, but she kept asking me about Dr. Watson. She's single, I don't think she's ever been in a relationship, but then it's up to the man to make the first move."

"How'd you get her number?"

he laughed. "No problem. I'm a doctor, I have my resources."

"Of course." I glanced at John, who was waiting patiently. "I should go."

he took my hand and squeezed it in a friendly manner. "I'll be waiting to hear from you."

"All right."

I turned and walked down the stairs, with Charles beside me, helping me down the stairs. He helped me into the cab and adjusted Sherlock's baby blanket. He had a pout on his face, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was mirroring his father's expression as he peered down at me from Heaven.

"Have a safe trip." Charles said with a smile. "I'll hopefully see you two around later."

I smiled. "Indeed. Goodbye."

Charles closed the door and I handed John, Mary's number. He frowned. "What's this?"

"Mary's number."

He stared at me. "Mary's number? How'd you get it?"

"Charles gave it to me."

"Charles gave it to you." He shook his head. "Mike says that he's one of the most dedicated specialists at Bart's. He's always socially active, but he always shows up at every single event alone."

I frowned. "How'd you know this?"

John shrugged. "Just…looking out for you. After all, I was Sherlock's best man."

"Indeed you were. In more ways than one." Sherlock let out a wail and I laughed. "And you are definitely going to take after your father aren't you?" Not to be out done, Linda let out a loud wail and she held it. I laughed and glanced at John. "Which one is going to be more trouble do you think?"

"Well, I'll say this." He said. "Linda is more animated, but considering that Sherlock is going to take after his father, I think that you're going to be up to your ears in trouble." I laughed. "And one word of advice, I saw Sherlock's feet and don't bother buying him shoes."

"Why on earth not?"

"Because, he's going to have huge feet and he's going to be outgrowing them before you know what hit you. You'll save time and money simply by making him wear the shoe boxes!"


	58. 58: A chance

Chapter fifty-eight

A chance

"Tammy?" I spun around to see Charles, walking towards me.

My jaw dropped. "What are you doing here?"

I hadn't expected to see him again, especially since we'd only met yesterday. He pointed to the guitar in his hand. "I was taking guitar lessons a block away. I was walking up to the street to get a cup of coffee." He walked up, set the guitar down and peered into the stroller. He smiled as he moved Linda's blanket back so he could get a better look at her face. "She has the most dazzling eyes."

"She inherited them from her father."

"I see."

I glanced at his guitar case. "So, you play guitar?"

He nodded. "I do."

"You any good?" I asked.

He shrugged. "My teacher thinks so."

I smiled. "I'd like to hear you sometime."

"Why don't we…get a coffee together?" He asked. "Then maybe I could play a song for you?"

I bit my lip. "I actually, don't like coffee, but, if you offer me a cocoa, I'll take you up on it."

"Right. Cocoa and a coffee." He picked up his guitar and walked alongside me. it was a very warm day for the middle of October, so it would be all right to sit outside. I still couldn't believe I was doing this. I was actually having cocoa with someone other than Sherlock. We started to pass by my club and I stopped for a moment, studying it for a moment. "You were a real good singer," Charles said. "I used to stop by on the days I didn't work the nightshifts."

"Thank you." I exhaled. "I just…never really found my heart again, after loosing Sherlock."

"Would you…like to go in for a minute?" he asked. "I know that's it's not open this early, but, maybe you'd like to visit it?"

I shook my head. "No. not until I actually feel like singing to someone other than my children."

"All right." He didn't push me and I was glad. We found a sunny spot in the outside courtyard, Charles surprised me by pulling out my chair for me. Sherlock, began making noises and he reached for him. "Allow me."

The waiter took our order and I surveyed the restaurant Chardonnay. "I've heard of this place, but I never actually ate here."

"Who told you of it?"

"Sherlock." I smiled sadly. "It's actually quite funny."

"What happened?"

"Well, it was my opening night at the club and, my ex-boyfriend had showed up. Sherlock was off chasing a group of smugglers. He'd come into the hall in time to hear me make up a boyfriend to my ex. He actually joined in the game and play acted like he was my boyfriend." I bit my lip. "He kissed me, for the first time, during the game. And, I think that's when we first recognized that…we actually cared for each other." I was silent for a moment and Charles was quiet, letting me find words again. "He then deduced that my boyfriend had shagged one of the waitress on the back wall in the alley before coming to see me again."

Charles rolled his eyes. "Now _that's _a stupid thing to do."

"And then he tried to deny it!"

"That guy was a idiot, but I guess it worked out for you. He gave you and your husband the right nudge to happiness."

"He did." I bit my lip. "Look, Charles, I'm not sure where this is going. I really, really should warn you that I am not over my husband's death."

He nodded. "I'm aware of that."

"I don't think that…I could love anyone yet, the way I loved him."

"I know that too."

"You're a really nice man and I don't want to hurt you. I just thought you should know, where you stand and frankly, it's on very shaky ground."

He arched one brow and smiled. "I'll just have to mind my balance won't I?" he stood up and placed Sherlock back with Linda. "Everyone takes a chance once in their lifetime, I'm taking mine on you."

I exhaled. "Sorry, I can't give you more of a chance."

"Hey, you're being honest." He pointed out as he sat down. "That's a start, from here on out, if I get hurt, it's my fault. You warned me, loud and clear. And you haven't succeeding in scaring me off."

I smiled and shook my head as he reached for his guitar case, moving it out of the way so the waiter could set our drinks down. "So, how long have you been playing?"

He shrugged. "About fifteen years."

"And you're still taking lessons?"

"I taught myself by ear growing up, but I recently started taking lessons this year to improve."

"Are you any good?"

Charles reached for his guitar case, opened it and pulled the guitar out. "You tell me."

he strummed his guitar once, checking to make sure it was in tune. "You're going to play in public?"

he shrugged. "Why not? You're here, I'm here, I've got my guitar and I don't know when I'm going to see you again. So, I might as well take advantage of the moment."

Charles bent his head over his guitar and began playing 'If I fell' by John Lennon. I wasn't a huge Beatle fan, but I did love a few songs of theirs, and I especially liked that one. I studied Charles, I could tell by his intense and dedicated expression that he was a music lover. He lived the music, like I did. He could sing, he was really, really good. Unlike Sherlock, he was very humble and didn't like to give himself airs.

The song ended and Charles set his guitar in his case. We were both silent for a moment, but he was the first to speak. "I better go. If I stay here a moment longer, I'm going to be sorely tempted to kiss you."

I lowered my gaze and fought the urge to bite my lip. "I'm flattered, but, you don't have to go. just…don't kiss me yet." I coughed lightly. "So, what other musical talents have you hidden away?"

"Well, I write songs, but, no one wants to publish them."

"Bring some over, and I'll sing them, see what kind of reception you get."

"No thanks," I frowned. "I appreciate it, but, I'd like to make it on my own. And I don't want you to think that I'm interested in you just because you could give my career a musical boost."

I smiled. "I understand." I glanced at my watch. "I should go home now."

"Can I walk you home?" he asked politely.

I hesitated. "I don't want to take you're out of my way."

"It's no trouble." He assured me. "If it were, I wouldn't have offered." He slung his guitar over his back and nudged me over. "Here, let me push."

"Thank you." I walked alongside him for a while in comfortable silence before I started asking him questions. "So, were you ever married?"

"No, I was engaged once, but I broke it off. And in answer to your silent question, I realized that our love just wasn't deep enough to last." He glanced at me. "Your ex-fiancée, why'd you break up with him?"

"He was cheating on me."

"Idiot." At my frown he said. "You're an unusual woman, the kind that's hard to find. Any man would be a fool to cheat on you when someone like you is hard to find."

"It feels like everyone puts me on a pedestal." I stopped in front of Baker Street. "This is where I live."

"You aren't on a pedestal Tammy, you have a high moral sense that's so rare now a days. Whether you intend to or not, you influence and aspire everyone around you to be like you." I flushed and he stepped back. "I'll let you go. I've monopolize you long enough."

"it was fun Charles, really, it has been."

"Maybe…we can meet again sometime."

"I'd like that." I said. "Call me later tonight….and we'll set something up later in the week?"

"All right. And if you can't find a baby sitter, don't worry," he grinned. "I love taking care of children, no matter what the age!"

I smiled. "All right."

As Charles walked away, I pulled the stroller carefully up the steps, barely jostling the sleeping babies. It was almost time for me to feed them, so they'd be waking soon. The door opened behind me and Mrs. Hudson was there.

"Tammy," she said. "here, let me help you."

"I'm fine Mrs. Hudson. Really."

"I was going to go out and help you, but I wasn't sure if that young man who was talking to you was going to offer or not." I stiffened. Mrs. Hudson was being polite, but I didn't know what she'd think about me seeing someone. "He seems like a nice man Tammy."

I nodded. "He is, but-

"He's just not Sherlock?" She finished for me. I nodded. She exhaled. "No one could be Tammy, that's the problem. When one we love dies, we know there could never be another to take their place. Sherlock," she shook her head. "he wasn't like _anybody_!" I laughed. "I'm not saying replace him, but, you're young and I know Sherlock would want you to be happy. You don't have to marry him if you don't love him. but, I think he'll do you some good," she ran her hand along my mouth. "he made you smile. I've been waiting to see you smile."

"I smile Mrs. Hudson."

"Sad smiles. This was a genuinely, happy smile. I don't know if it'll work out for you two, but if he brings you out of your depression, see if he can make you happy. Because if you're happy, then Sherlock can rest easy knowing you're happy."

"I only just met him, so, we'll just be friends."

"It's the best of friends that end up married."


	59. 59: All of me

Chapter fifty-nine

All of me

* * *

_A few weeks later,_

* * *

I was scared, I was going to be sick.

Charles and I had been going out with the kids several times a week and this was our first official date. He'd invited me to go with him, as his date, to a black tie event with dancing and dinner. I'd had to go out and buy a formal evening dress. It was a two-faced dress. The front of it was dramatic and appeared modest, but the back of it was sexy and daring. I felt a little ill at ease about the back, but it was better that people look at my back than my stomach. I was certain I was never going to loose the few pounds that I'd gained. It had been almost a year since I'd been on a date and I'd had two children during that time. Mrs. Hudson and the saleslady both insisted that I looked fine. Mrs. Hudson said she'd watch Charles and Linda for me and there was nothing for me to worry about.

"Nervous?" Charles asked as he helped me out of the taxi.

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Hey, don't worry."

"What if someone recognizes me?"

"Then I'll chase them off."

I made a face. "That won't be much fun for you."

He laughed as he took ahold of my arm and walked me upstairs. "I always have fun with you. Things are always very interesting around you."

I shook my head. "I don't know why you put up with me."

"Because I'm crazy about you. And you could use a night out."

I nodded. "Yes, I rarely get a night out now, thanks to the twins."

"I guess you won't be opening up your club anytime soon."

I shrugged. "Oh I don't know. I've been thinking about knocking out a wall in my dressing room and hiring a trustworthy baby sister. I'll have Mycroft screen them personally." I exhaled. "The only thing missing in my life is my job and since I met you, I've realized that going almost a year without singing has been a hindrance in my healing process."

"Singing meant a lot to you. Everyone who watched you could tell." He said. "Most cabaret singers want to be noticed, you just want to have fun."

I nodded as he helped me out of my coat. "And now that I've been having fun again, I might start singing again." I turned to see Charles staring at me. It wasn't a lustful stare, it was adoration and I blushed as I brushed my hair back. "What?"

He shook his head. "You…surprised me, you always dress so…conservatively."

"I couldn't find anything that didn't attract attention to my…front. This one makes one notice my back."

He nodded. "It certainly does." He walked up to me and looked around. "I guess, I shall have to mind my hands won't I?"

I shrugged. "It's ok, I'm a widow, remember?"

He nodded. "Yes, but I can still respect you can't I?" He took ahold of my arm and we walked into the ballroom.

It didn't fail my notice how most of the women looked up as Charles's name was announced, but their looks were looks of shock. I guess John was right when he said he often arrived alone. I wondered what things I'd learn about Charles tonight and I hoped there was nothing unsavory for me to find out.

Charles, mindful of my nervousness, introduced me to his many colleagues simply as Tammy. Dinner was nice, simple and elegant, but the chef couldn't hold a candle to Angelo in my opinion. Unfortunately, two women who were avid tabloid followers figured out who I was and our private table began to get swarmed. Charles was better at politely getting them to leave us in peace. But he couldn't stop the rumors that start flying across the ballroom that _the _Tammy Holmes was here with Charles Walker.

After dinner, Charles pulled me onto the dance floor, with an apologetic face. "Sorry Tammy."

I smiled. "Don't be, if anything it's Sherlock's fault, and mine, that I can't go around in public anymore."

He shrugged. "I should have at least thought of an alias name for you."

"People aren't as stupid as they appear, unfortunately." He laughed and spun me. I then realized that Charles was dancing an actual waltz. "You're actually dancing ballroom. You know how?"

He nodded. "Yeah, my mother was a professional dancer. She made me learn everything."

"Did you enjoy dancing?"

"Not until this moment."

I laughed. "You're such a smooth talker."

"Smooth dancer." He said as he began waltzing me around the dancer floor. We made quite the picture, waltzing through every couple that was slow dancing. "I see you know how to dance as well."

I nodded. "I'm a firm believer in it takes two to dance."

"Indeed." He said as he dipped me backwards. "Care to show off a bit?"

"Definitely."

And we did show off! Charles lifted me, spun me in triple turns and did advanced ballroom moves. Bit by bit, people cleared the floor, giving us more room to watch us. I couldn't hide the flush of pride from showing on my face. It had been many years since I'd danced and I'd certainly never had the opportunity to dance with Sherlock. But I shook that thought out of my head as Charles lifted me up in the air, turning as the music ended. Then, he dipped me backwards and I lifted my foot high in the air. Charles righted me and hugged me as the music ended.

I laughed. "That was fun. I loved it."

"I loved dancing with you too. My best partner since my mother died."

"Ladies and gentlemen," I turned around towards the announcer. "we have a celebrity among us." I turned around and looked around the room. "Mrs. Tammy Holmes."

Applause filled the room and I blushed. "Great." I said through a forced smile.

"Those familiar with Mrs. Holmes will remember her as a radiant nightclub singer before her marriage. Perhaps, she could be persuaded to give us a song tonight!"

Everyone applauded and I made a face at Charles. "I've got a funny feeling this was rigged."

He held his hands up innocently. "Not me, I swear. But go on, I've been dying to hear you sing."

"So when I do you'll fall dead on the ground?"

"If you want me to."

I shook my head and climbed up onto the stage. The bossa nova band that was entertaining us, was preparing to play 'All of me' next, so I decided to sing that one. I bent my knees a bit, flung my hair back and began to 'smolder' as I called it. Most people would say I was seductively purring into the mike.

_All of me, why not take all of me? Can't you see I'm no good without you? Take my lips, _I ran my fingers over my lips, slowly._ I want to loose them. Take my arms,_ I wrapped them around my waist, swaying my hips from side to side._ I'll never use them! Your goodbye,_ to my ultimate dismay, Sherlock's face my mind._ left me with eyes that cry, cry, cry. How can I go on here without you? _My eyes watered a little and I looked upwards, blinking them away. _You, took a part that once was my heart. _ _So, why not take all of me?_

I climbed up onto the piano, bracing myself on the piano player's shoulder. I channeled my inner Michelle Pfeiffer and 'melted' onto the piano. _All of me, why not take all of me? Can't you see I'm no good without you? Take my lips, I want to loose them. take my arms, I never use them! _I stretched my hand outwards towards the ceiling. _Your goodbye, left with eyes that cry. How can I go on here without you? You took the best so, why not take the rest? _There was a tone of anger in my voice. Sherlock and I had such a musical connection that even now, he dominated the music. He had left me _nothing _that didn't remind me of him. was I never to have a moment's peace without him disrupting my sanity?_ Come on, and take all of me! Baby take all of me._

I looked down at the ground, blinking away tears. The moment the applause rang throughout the building, I put on a mask of happiness and swung my legs off the piano. I bowed and curtsied as if nothing were wrong. I got off the stage, ignoring requests for an encore and I walked up to Charles.

He was applauding, but he stopped when I got within distance to pull me into a hug. "You were wonderful!"

"Thank you."

I closed my eyes and surrendered to his embrace. I was desperate to remove Sherlock from my mind. I had to banish him from my mind!

_Tammy will you marry me? _I jumped and spun around, my eyes wide. "Tammy," Charles asked. "what's the matter?"

I inhaled and exhaled rapidly. "I'm sorry."

"What happened?" He guided me off the floor towards our table. He handed me a glass of water. "Here."

"I'm fine." I assured him. "I-I just had a flashback. I'm sorry."

Charles nodded understandingly. "What happened with you and Sherlock during this day?"

"Nothing, but," I bit my lip and confessed. "we got married on Valentine's day. That's next month you know and I guess that I-I was just…hearing things."

Charles was silent for a long time, then he said. "Then out of respect for him, I won't kiss you or buy you chocolates or roses."

I laughed and wiped my eye. "You're sweet Charles."

"It's because of the amount of chocolate I eat."

"And funny."

"It's the way I comb my hair."

I shook my head. "And you're patient too."

He bit his lip. "I'll have to think on that one for a bit."

The rest of the evening was good. Charles kept me laughing and Sherlock didn't dominate my mind once after that. Charles was really good and I admired how he seemed interested in Sherlock, he never changed the subject when I brought him up. He was genuinely curious about the man I'd been married to. He didn't pry, waited for me to reveal what I wanted to about Sherlock. It felt good to talk to him.

It was almost 11:00 when he walked me home. He stood outside the flat door, uncomfortably rubbing his hands on his sides. "Well, goodnight Tammy. Sleep well."

"You to." As he leaned forward to hug me, I murmured. "If you want to kiss me… you may."

I held my breath as he placed his hands on my waist. He paused and studied me. "Are you sure?"

I nodded as I placed my hands on his shoulders and inhaled. He took one step closer, I inhaled and tilted my face up expectantly towards his. My heart was pounding as he leaned forward and kissed me gently. Or it was supposed to be a gentle kiss. I stood on tiptoe, leaned closer, and met him halfway. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he gently pulled me closer and his arms grew tighter around my waist. He wasn't passionate like Sherlock. But while passionate kisses definitely get a lot of views on youtube, it was the sweet and gentle kisses that were truly memorable.

Gently, he pulled away from me, and for a moment, we couldn't think of a word to say. "Mmmmh." I murmured.

He chuckled quietly. "A good 'mmmmh' I hope?"

I nodded. "Definitely." I pulled away from him. "Goodnight Charles."

"Goodnight Tammy." He opened the door for me. "Will I see you again tomorrow?"

I hesitated and turned towards him with a soft smile. "Now you have to." Charles smiled broadly as he closed the door behind me. I smiled and stepped inside the flat, my eyes glanced towards the mirror on the wall. I was smiling and I definitely had a glazed look in my eyes. "Yes," I said quietly. "I think I could very well be falling in love Charles Walker."

At that moment, my head was flooded with my marriage vows. _"I take you as my husband, and will give myself to no other."_

I could see Sherlock's grinning face before me. "_I'm holding you to that."_

"_I insist."_

I hit my head and swore. "Stop it!" I begged. "Stop it!" I hadn't asked to live inside Wuthering Heights, but I was. Like Heathecliff, I was being driven insane by the memory of someone who had died. Maybe for him, the memories were better, but for me, it was Hell. "Set me free Sherlock." I begged. "Please. Set me free."

* * *

**For Charli, I loved your song suggestion so I just HAD to put it in here! **

**Oh and the link for Tammy's formal dress is on my profile page!**


	60. 60: A tribute to Sherlock

Chapter sixty

A tribute to Sherlock

A tap on my dressing room door caused me to jump. "Come in!"

Charles came in with a broad smile. "Hello! I just came back to wish you luck."

I gave him a hug. "You came out here just to see me open up! That was sweet of you!"

"Your opening night, how could I miss it?" he studied me. "How are you, are you doing ok? You look tired."

I exhaled. "I'm just…nervous."

He didn't believe me. "Rough night yesterday?"

I nodded sullenly. Yesterday had been valentine's day. True to his word, Charles had given me my space. He hadn't sent me roses, chocolates, or even a single text message. Mrs. Hudson and I'd stayed up, watching my wedding day on video. Sherlock, darling Sherlock, it brought tears to my eyes to see him again.

The man behind the camera was brilliant; he knew exactly where to be. He'd zoomed into Sherlock's face as he said his vows to me. I held my breath as my heart had pounded in my chest as I relived the moment he'd spoken them to me.

"_I used to be afraid of falling in love, of giving my heart away. How could I trust a woman to love me, to give to me all that I wanted to give to her? Tammy, when I met you, I realized how much we could share together. And that would be right from the moment you said that you were pleased to meet me, and you so obviously weren't. You have renewed my life and I love you. Today, I join that life with yours."_

The kiss, oh, it had been so beautiful then, and it looked just as beautiful on the screen. It was definitely worthy of an Oscar. Sherlock had teased me into the kiss, taking his time, making me hungry for more kisses. I didn't doubt his love for me in that moment and actually seeing his face again reassured me that he truly did love me. The eyes were the windows to one's soul and I saw his soul in that kiss.

Nothing got past this cameraman and I made a special note to thank John when I saw him. He filmed Sherlock and I sharing our one plate of food. He even got filmed Sherlock dipping my finger in the frosting and sucking it. Heat clenched in my stomach as I watched his face. The moment where we serenaded each other was especially spell binding.

When the video finished, Mrs. Hudson and I were in tears. They were different tears though; they weren't tears of complete pain now. They were tears of remembrance and longing now. I ached, but my heart wasn't broken anymore. It was repaired, stitched and glued in multiple places. Some days, bits of blood leaked through the stitches and the glue didn't dry. Other days the glue held and the stitches became nerves of steel.

"Tammy?" Charles said. "Ready?"

I shook my head. "Yes." I reached for 'the rose' that Sherlock had given me and inhaled once and exhaled. "I'm ready now."

I hadn't told Charles, but tonight was a tribute to Sherlock. I'd also changed my stage name to Tammy Holmes and just for tonight, I'd perform all the songs we'd shared together. Charles kissed my cheek. "I better go. Good luck!"

I nodded and pressed a kiss to the rose before walking out on stage. I received a tremendous amount of applause and I knew that I'd made the right choice in coming back. I missed the stage and the audience obviously had missed me.

"Thank you. Thank you ladies and gentlemen." I cleared my throat. "I'm so glad to see that in the time I've been gone, that my fans remembered me, inspite of my surname having changed." I bit my lip. "Tonight, is a special and, it may be somewhat difficult for me. Yesterday, would have been my first wedding anniversary." Silence reigned in the club. "And we all know why it would have been. So, when I was arranging the show, my anniversary was on my mind. And, I wanted to do something special. Dr. John Watson and I are currently writing up Sherlock's cases and we intend to publish them." Everyone applauded and I waited for everyone to stop before continuing. "So, tonight, I'd like to sing some songs that meant so much to us. I'll give you some background history about what was going on between us at the time. So, tonight, I'd like to dedicate to this show to a great man, my husband, Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

I opened with Sondheim's 'You could drive a person crazy' and then I moved through so many songs that brought back pleasant and unpleasant memories. 'Sooner or later,' 'my boyfriend's back,' 'when a man loves a woman,' 'he's got a way,' 'I hate you, then I love you,' 'other lady,' and 'the moon's a harsh mistress'. I barely made it through our song 'she's always a woman' without breaking down in tears. I couldn't sing my song for him, 'A sorta love song' it was strictly for him. But I did 'a woman in his arms', 'I break so easily,' 'October weekend' 'finishing the hat,' and 'laughter in the rain.'

Then, I got the chapter in our life, I'd been dreading. Sherlock's suicide. I was able to lead off strongly with 'No finer man' but my heart began to sink as I sang 'every day a little death,' 'never say goodbye,' 'the heart is slow to learn,' and I decided to finish with Sara Bareilles 'Gravity'.

_Something always brings me back to you. It never takes too long. No matter what I say or do I'll still feel you here _I touched my heart._ 'til the moment I'm gone. _I wrapped my arms around my waist and took a few steps. _You hold me without touch. You keep me without chains. I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain. _I ran my hands slowly down my neck as the 'rain' from the stage effects fell down on me.

I looked upward, asking Sherlock. _Set me free, leave me be. _I was glad that my tears mingled with the 'rain', so no one could tell I was truly crying. _I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity. _And I didn't want to fall into his gravity! I wanted to be free! Free from all the pain and grief that was surrounding me. _Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be. But you're on to me and all over me._

I could almost feel his hands on me and I shuddered, opening my eyes and walking a small pace away. _You loved me 'cause I'm fragile, when I thought that I was strong. _He was strong; I was never really the strong one. I was stubborn, but I was an emotional basket case. _But you touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone. Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity. Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be. But you're on to me and all over me._

I felt 'those' hands of his all over me and they ran down my spine. It felt as if I had dozens of spiders crawling all over me. I could feel 'those' eyes staring into my mind, as if they were trying to break into my sanity. "God!" I shouted and everyone in the audience jumped.

I knelt on the floor, on my knees. _I live here on my knees as I try to make you see that you're everything I think I need here on the ground! _I looked upwards, angry with him. _But you're neither friend nor foe, though I can't seem to let you go. _I pointed, angrily reprimanding the ghost that was taunting me so cruelly. _The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down! _I reached upwards and the audience screamed with delight as I hit that high note, unaware of the anguish in my soul. He was keeping me down! He was keeping me down in my misery, not allowing me to attempt to be happy. _You're keeping me down, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. You're on to me, on to me, and all over. _I lay on the ground, running my hand over the cold surface. _Something always brings me back to you. _I shook my head. _It never takes too long._

The applause stirred me and I stood up, bowing to the audience. The applause was long, hard and thunderous. I wasn't allowed to leave the stage until the applause from my standing ovation had died. I immediately scurried back to my dressing room to see Linda and Sherlock.

My hired nanny, Amy, was watching them. She smiled and stood up. "They're fine. The noise didn't disturb them a bit. Sherlock rather liked it, he loves hearing you sing." she shuddered. "Oh, your rendition of 'Gravity' was truly haunting. That shout, oh, it completely changed the song for me. If you recorded it, it would definitely be platinum record."

I smiled. "Thank you Amy, but I doubt if I could sing it again the way I did just now." I knelt beside Linda's crib, lifted her up and gazed into her eyes. "Could I have some privacy please?"

"Of course."

No sooner had she closed my door, did the tears flow. Sherlock thumped his hands on the crib, letting out a distressed gurgle. Linda patted at my face with doubled fists, at my tears, causing me to smile. Three months or not, they acted a lot older than that. John said that they took after their father, growing up too fast. "Sorry." I exhaled and went over to Sherlock's crib. "I know, you two hate it when I cry don't you? I'm sorry. Mommy misses Daddy at the moment."

A bang on the door caused me to jump. "Tammy?" It was Charles. "Can I come in?"

"Yes." I sniffled and wiped my eyes as he opened the door. I smiled and handed him Linda. "Can you hold her for a minute?"

"Yes." His eyes narrowed. "You're crying."

"A little." I sat down and began to repair my makeup. "So, how was I?"

"Beautiful." Charles placed Linda back in her crib. "Enchanting, haunting and sad." I reached for my comb as Charles knelt beside my chair. "Gravity, you were singing to Sherlock weren't you?" I looked away. "Now, don't look away."

"I feel like such a heel." I confessed. "After all this time, I just can't forget him."

"Well, yesterday would have been your first wedding anniversary. I can imagine he was on your mind a bit." I looked down and lead my head against his chest. "I could see it Tammy, I could feel it. Now I'm not jealous or anything, just a little worried about how I'm supposed to compete with a ghost."

I shook my head. "This sounds like this movie called 'Laura' where this man falls in love with a woman who's been murdered."

"How does it end?"

"Turns out it was all a mistake. She was never really dead. They live happily ever after."

"Are you hoping that he's still alive?"

"Why do you keep asking me questions about him?" I asked. "Most people wouldn't ask questions about their 'rival' even if they were dead."

He was quiet for a moment. "Because it's easier to talk to a stranger than it is to family."

"You're not a stranger and I don't have any family, except for Linda and Sherlock. Jr. that is." I confessed. "I miss him."

"And it's right you should. You knew him for almost two years and were married to him for four months. You two saw each other almost every single day, that's almost like being married before he actually had the ring on your finger. He was your best friend before your husband. Sure, you can talk to Mrs. Hudson and John, but they're grieving too. I'm the only one who can give you a fresh perspective on life. You refused therapy, and you find solace in your music and talking to me."

I looked up at him and smiled. "Do you know what I hate about you?"

He laughed. "What?"

"The fact that you know exactly what I'm feeling. It unnerves me and pleases me at the same time. You're very patient Charles, if you were in Sherlock's shoes, he would be onto me and all over me until I gave in."

"Like gravity?" he asked softly.

"Yes. And someday, I'll learn to walk without it. Gravity keeps us on the ground, and I confess I walked around with my head in the clouds whenever I was with him. You're my rock, you keep me steady and stable." I leaned forward and took ahold of his hands. "Thank you." I pressed a friendly kiss on his cheek. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Charles leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth. It wasn't a demanding kiss, but I could taste the passion that he was restraining for my sake. He wasn't going to break my heart by moving too soon. I smiled against his lips and I was still smiling as we broke the kiss.

He ran his hand down my cheek. "I don't know what I'd do without you either."

* * *

**Ok, life just suddenly got busy. I'm not going to be able to update at all tomorrow, which really ticks me off! But circumstances as they are, I won't be able to! The family is going on a trip all day and I won't have any internet! But I shall be back the next day with the next chapters!**


	61. 61: Andersen cannot be right!

Chapter sixty-one

Andersen cannot be right!

* * *

_Six months later,_

* * *

One must reconnect with problems in the past, right them, so you can move forward in clean conscious. At least that's the story that goes around, but it was easier said than done. I was meeting John at his new flat. We were going to be going over the final touches for our manuscript for Sherlock Holmes: Behind the man, mystery and the mask. Sappy title, but it so obviously made sense to us. Sherlock was definitely a man of mystery and I was the only one privileged to see behind his mask. It was a huge book and very entertaining, even if I do say so myself.

John had moved out once things started developing with Mary so he could be closer to her. Mary was a sweet lady, she had a wonderful laugh and even if she simply walked into the room, John would smile. It was a little hard for me to see two people happily in love. Sure, I had Charles, but our relationship hadn't advanced like that. Charles and I were exploring, John and Mary were in love. I wagered in a year or so, John would be proposing to Mary and she'd accept him.

As I stood in the pub, waiting for them to give me my lunch order, I heard the voices of two men who I hadn't heard since the trial. "A breakaway sect of Buddhist warrior monks infiltrated by a blonde drug smuggler?" I spun around at the sound of Greg's voice. "That never really happened!"

He was talking to Andersen, but not the Andersen I remembered. He had a beard and his hair was unkempt, as were his clothes. He must have gotten fired from his job, but as to what it was, the suggestions were endless.

I turned my back to them so I could avoid detection. "A blonde drug smuggler who was exposed by an abbot with unusual powers of observation and deduction!"

Greg snorted. "A blonde woman hiding amongst bald monks? That wouldn't exactly take Sherlock Holmes!" At the mention of Sherlock's name, my head shot up and my ears were instantly alert.

"Well," Andersen commented. "perhaps it did."

"He's dead." Greg reminded Andersen. "I'm sorry. I wish he wasn't, but he really is dead and gone."

"Well," Andersen asked as he pulled a world map towards himself and points at a spot on the map. "how do you explain this? Sighting number two, incident at New Delhi."

Greg is stunned. "You haven't been titling these?"

Andersen nodded. "I have."

"I read about that case. Clever man, Inspector Prakesh."

Andersen isn't convinced. "Working out the depth to which the chocolate flake had sunk into the victim's ice-cream cone?" He snorted. "What police inspector could have made that deduction?"

I bit my lip. That _was_ unusual for a police inspector. I couldn't have figured it out. Maybe this police inspector could. But….it _definitely_ had Sherlock's style to it. But, he was dead. He had to be. I'd seen his body hit the ground, I'd seen the blood and I'd attended his funeral. I hadn't heard from him afterwards. I hadn't seen him either, except for those dreams of mine.

"Oh, thank you!" Greg said, clearly insulted.

"You remember how Sherlock never took the credit when he solved all of _your_ cases?"

Greg was now indignant. "He _didn't_ solve all of my cases!"

At this point, I couldn't remain silent anymore. I turned towards and walked towards them, pushing Linda and Sherlock jr. "He didn't solve all of them, he just solved most of them." both men jumped and stared at me. "Hello." I said evenly. "Long time no see."

Greg stared at me. "Tammy?" He stood up and hugged me. "How have you been?"

"Fine."

"Have you been ok?"

"Yes." I said. "But I am rather curious as to why you are discussing my departed husband, in a pub, with Andersen."

"He's not dead." Andersen said, causing me to jump. "He's out there. He's hiding. But he can't stop himself from getting involved."

I shot him a frown and tried to give an impression that I was calm and collected. "What do you mean by that?" But his words made sense, I remembered Sherlock right before we took on the Baskerville case. He'd solved a case and an hour later, he was going crazy! But this was a recent case he mentioned, Sherlock couldn't go this long without solving a case. He'd have died of boredom. His job as a consulting detective was one he made up because all the other jobs were boring or beneath him.

"He thinks Sherlock is alive," Greg explained. "just because of some recent cases that have been brought to light. They're a little unusual."

Andersen chuckled. "It's so obviously him, if you know how to spot the signs!"

"The Klein Brothers, the Tower House thing, the Kensington Ripper," Greg said as he sat back down in his chair. "I solved all those myself!"

Andersen smirked. "Well, you got Tower House wrong."

"No, I didn't!" Lestrade's voice went high at the end of his protest.

"Yep, you did. Okay, sighting number three." He points to another spot on the map. "The Mysterious Juror." Greg groaned and he dropped his head to the table in front of him. Frankly, I don't know why Andersen was being so insistent about Sherlock being alive. He hated him more than anyone else. "It had to be him! There's no one else it can be! Do you not see?"

Greg groaned. "I see that you lost a good job fantasizing about a dead man coming back to life, and I know why you want that to happen. But it's never gonna. I'm sure out of everyone in the world, Tammy would want it to be true, but it's not." Anderson shakes his head in denial. "Okay," Greg downed his glass of beer. "I'm gonna go and see an old friend. You take care, okay?" He stands and picks up a box from a nearby stool. "I'll put a word in, see if they won't review your case."

But Andersen wouldn't give up. "Just look at the map, though." He draws an imaginary line from New Delhi to Hamburg, to Amsterdam, and then Brussels. "He's getting closer." He looks up at Greg. "It's like he's coming back."

At this point, I loose my temper. "Brilliant Andersen!" I snap, sounding a bit much like Sherlock. "You never did have brains to pour water out of a boat!"

"Now wait a minute."

"No you wait a minute!" I shouted. "Sherlock is dead!"

"But just look at-

"I am looking!" My voice rose with emotions that I thought I had buried deep inside me. I pulled out my phone and showed them a picture of Sherlock and Linda. They were almost nine months old now. I thrust my phone at them, showing them the picture of them playing with their blocks.

Their eyes widened in shock. "Oh God." Greg groaned in sympathy. "Tammy…are they his?"

I nodded. "He had the kindness of getting me pregnant with his children before dying." I stated. "Look at that Andersen. What do you see? I'm looking at two children who are going to grow up having never known their father! John brought them into the world without him there! Not once, during or after my pregnancy has he contacted me and I was his wife! No man, not even Sherlock Holmes, would be cruel enough to fake his death, not send a word to me to ask if I was all right after I'd gotten shot defending his name! He didn't ask me for pictures of our two children when they were born! John delivered them and Sherlock didn't text me to see how I was! And I know that we all agree that he wouldn't be sitting by quietly while I go out with another man!" Greg and Andersen jumped. "I've moved on, and it's time you do the same! Sherlock is dead! He's been dead for a year and a half now!"

"Tammy."

"Count the months! I was married to him for four months before he jumped. I was a month pregnant when he jumped and I had Linda and Sherlock Jr., almost seven months later. Now, they're eight months and he hasn't surfaced. If he were alive, he would have surfaced for my sanity and for the sake of our children. Think about that Andersen!"

I grabbed the food bag the waiter had left on the table for me. I stomped out of the pub and Greg followed me. "Wait a minute Tammy." I stop, exhale and rub my eyes. "I'm sorry Tammy."

"So am I." I turned to face him. "I can't believe I just did that. I thought…I was over raising my voice in public like that."

"You were upset, as you should be. He shouldn't have insisted that Sherlock was alive. It's been hard for you, and I'm glad you're trying to move on. Sherlock wouldn't want you to be unhappy."

I shook my head. "So everyone's been telling me. But then he has the audacity to haunt my head and dreams all night and day."

"It'll go away. So, you had a boy and a girl?"

"Yes. Sherlock Hamish and Linda May."

"Lovely children."

"Thank you Greg."

"You said they're almost eight months now, so, what are they like?"

"John says they're very advanced for their age. They're crawling everywhere and can walk with my support. Tammy plays 'peek-a-boo' Sherlock, of course, thinks it's ridiculous and prefers to explore the flat. He's not very patient and hates the word 'no' if I tell him not to do something, he'll sit and sulk. He's a pouter, like his father. Linda loves music, she's always trying to sing and gets very frustrated because she can't. "

He laughed. "It sounds like you're very busy. I hope you're getting enough sleep."

"I am. Mrs. Hudson is a great help and she loves babysitting during the day. She never had children, so it gives her pleasure, makes her feel like a grandmother." I straightened. "I should go. I'm going to visit John."

"I'm going that way too. I have to give him this box actually, so I'll walk with you." I nodded and Greg took my arm and guided me down the street. "So," he asked casually. "this other man…what's he like?"

"Charles? He's a really nice guy, you'd like him."

"Am I going to meet him sometime?"

I nodded. "You probably all ready have. Charles Walker, he works at Bart's."

"Oh yes. I have met him, quite a few times, he seems to be a nice man."

I nodded again. "Very nice."

"You still miss him," Greg asked gently. "Sherlock I mean?"

I bit my lip. "Sherlock was the greatest man I never knew. But I can't dwell on the past. I have to think ahead now, I've got two children."

"Tammy," Greg stopped. "wait a minute and hear me out." I stopped and looked towards him. "Now, I may get out of my depth here, but I think you should hear it. If you're seeing Charles because he'd make a great father for your children, break it off." I stared at him. "If he's honestly filling up the hole that Sherlock left in your heart, that's great, but please, be sure that you're in love, not lonely."

"I mean, I do care about Charles, and there is something between us, it was the moment we met. He's respectful and he makes me laugh. He's kind, gentle, sweet, honest, sensitive, clever, well mannered and very considerate. But-

"But what?"

I looked down and admitted. "He's so different from any man I've ever known. He's never laid an ungentlemanly hand on me, I mean, Robert tried and Sherlock," I snorted and rolled my eyes. "the moment we were a couple, he just….couldn't keep his hands off me. And when we married," I shook my head. "let's just say I was loved very much by him. You saw us at Baskerville, after a little playful recreation in the shower."

He laughed. "I remember. Sherlock was mad because you were discussing his rather passionate advances." His smiled faded. "And, how is it when you're with Charles? Is he-

"We're not intimate in any way. He kisses me frequently, holds me close and it's…beautiful." I admitted honestly. "I could be very, very happy with him and most of the time I am, until…something like this happens. Then I become the defensive 'Mrs. Holmes' all over again." I exhaled and brushed my hair back from my face. "That chocolate flake that Andersen was talking about, it seems like Sherlock, I admit that. But, if he were alive, wouldn't he tell me that he was alive? He was so clever, there are ways for him to tell me without anyone else knowing."

Greg rubbed my shoulder. "Andersen's imagination is running away with him. Don't you start believing it."

"I'm not." I said. "My head is saying not to but, my heart, I admit, is wishing that Andersen was right." I tossed my head and smiled. "But Sherlock did say that Andersen was the least intelligent person on the force! So, if it was real and it's obvious to Andersen, what does that say for the rest of us?"

Greg laughed. "I don't know!"

I joined in with his laughter, but my laugh seemed to catch in my chest. In spite of my head, my heart was urging me to go with Andersen's suggestion. But it was impossible. It had to be! He was dead! And I needed to accept it! Our anniversary was four months ago! If he were alive, he'd try to contact me! I scratched that thought out of my head. Sherlock had picked big days to proclaim his love for me, so every time that one of those holidays came around, I'd remember him, so I was doomed to never forget him.

* * *

**Surprise, surprise! Due to circumstances beyond anyone's control, involving a falling tree, the trip got put on hold for another time. Fortunately, we didn't get very far. I have a poll up and I'd appreciate everyone voting in it. I'm toying with several different ways that Sherlock and Tammy meet up again and I haven't decided yet. The poll does expose one spoiler that is going to happen and Sherlock is NOT going to like it!**


	62. 62: Birthday excuses

Chapter sixty-two

Birthday excuses

I tapped on the flat and John called. "Come in Tammy."

"Hello John." I held up the food bag. "I brought lunch and a friend."

John smiled and stepped towards Greg. "It's good to see you, Greg."

"And you." They shake hands.

"Have a seat."

Greg sits down in the nearest armchair. "So, how have you been?"

John parks himself on the sofa "Yeah, good. Yeah, much better." Greg nods as John points towards the shoebox. "Er, so what's in the-

"Oh, that, yeah. That's, er, that's some stuff from my office, some stuff of Sherlock's, actually." At the mention of Sherlock's name I walk into the living room. "I probably should have thrown it out, but I didn't know if-

"No, fine, yeah." John doesn't make a move, so Greg, stands up and retrieves the box."

"Yeah, there's -there's something here. Um, wasn't sure whether I should have kept it in." I stand beside Greg as he takes the lid off the box; there are few items inside. A pink phone, perhaps _the_ pink phone, a box of nicotine patches, a small piece of paper with writing on it, a toy train engine, a yellow face mask, and a DVD." You remember the video message he made for your birthday?" John nods. "Oh, I had to practically threaten him."

John smiles a little so I ask. "What video message for your birthday John?"

John blinked. "You never found out?"

"No. What? What did I miss?"

John chuckled quietly. "You remember when you went to the London eye?"

"Yes. It was really romantic. Sherlock and I had dinner up there, we went dancing for about ten minutes and then we had a long walk."

"Well…it was my birthday."

I stared. "What? I missed your birthday? And Sherlock knew?"

John nodded. "Obviously."

"Why'd he do that?"

"I'll let Sherlock do the explaining." Greg said as he hands the DVD to John. "This is the uncut version. It's quite funny."

"Oh, right." John takes it and looks at it awkwardly.

"Maybe I shouldn't have brought it." Greg said.

"Don't worry, it's okay." John reassured him. "Probably won't even watch it."

"I'm glad you did." I said gently. "I find out something new about Sherlock every day."

The whole atmosphere was awkward now. Even after Greg left, John and I still couldn't find the words. After five minutes of silence, John said. "I need a drink." I don't say anything, I just watch as he calmly pours himself a glass of whiskey. He takes a drink and glances down at the DVD in front of him for a while. I hold my breath as he picks it up and looks towards the TV set. "Do you….want to see this?" he asked me hesitantly.

I nodded. "Yes. I would."

John, gets up and puts the burned DVD into player. It loads and he walks back to get his seat. I smile as I take in the sight of the wall with that stupid, yellow, smiley face spray painted on the wall. I'd repaired the wall, so the smiley face and the bullets in the wall were gone now. All of Sherlock's clothes and items were in boxes. I'd decided to save them for Sherlock jr., who knows, maybe he'd grow up and take the place of his father. John sits down on the sofa opposite the TV and takes another drink. My heart jumps as I see Sherlock come onto the screen.

"Was that supposed to happen," Sherlock asked. "the light going down? Yeah, okay." I start smiling as Sherlock begins to pace back and forth, across the living room. Our wedding videos, he'd been so reserved, so now I was getting a view of the Sherlock that I'd fallen in love with. "So, what do I, what do I, what do you want me to do at the end?" He stops and looks at Greg. "Shall I, um ...smile and wink?" I smile and lean forward. "I do that sometimes. I've no idea why. People seem to like it….humanizes me, Tammy likes it."

He turns away and Greg sounds completely bored. "Fine, whatever."

He starts to turn away, but spins on his heel and looks back into the camera. "_Why_ am I doing this again?"

I can't hold back my laughter as Greg explains patiently. "You're gonna miss the dinner."

"Of course I'm gonna miss dinner. There'll be people!" He practically spits out the word 'people' as fast as one would spit out an insect in ones mouth.

"I still think you should tell Tammy, I know for a fact she'd like to go."

"Yes, she would, but I'll tell her I forgot it was John's birthday and she'll never know what she missed."

"Until she sees this!"

Sherlock shrugged. "Then I'll tell her I just wanted an evening alone with her!"

"Oh, taking her out tonight?"

"Yeah. She wanted to see the London Eye, so I arranged a private dinner."

"Romantic."

"It is not romantic, I'm doing both of us a favor." I covered my mouth and rolled my eyes. "She gets to see the London Eye and if we're having dinner there, we can't be having John's birthday dinner at the same time!"

"Louse." I mutter under my breath.

Sherlock starts to turn away, then turns back. "How can John be having a birthday dinner? All his friends hate him." I glanced at John and I'm relieved to see that he smiled at Sherlock's words briefly. "You only have to look at their faces. I wrote an essay on suppressed hatred in close proximity based entirely on his friends." John smiles again and Sherlock pauses thoughtfully. "On reflection, it probably wasn't a very good choice of gift."

"He didn't really give you that essay did you?"

John nodded and we looked back at the screen. I shake my head in despair Sherlock is musing again. "Tammy is probably going to have a lot to say on the subject."

"She's your wife, expect it."

"Oh that woman! I tell you Lestrade, she has the most interesting personality changes it's…really quite fascinating." Tears fill my eyes and I bite my lip. "She has this utterly annoying habit of biting her lip and it drives me absolutely insane!"

I immediately stopped biting my lip. Greg laughed. "I know, my wife has a habit of biting the ends of her hair. She has no idea how adorable she looks every time she does it."

Sherlock shook his head. "I tell you, every time she does, I swear I just have her that instant." I blush red. "And she always obliges me, it's a wonder she's not pregnant with triplets yet." I bury my face in my hands as every bit of my face, up to the tips of my ears burn bright. Thankfully, Sherlock got back onto course. "Why am I telling you all this?" He looks into the camera for a moment before looking past it at Greg. "What was my excuse again?"

I laugh as Greg replies. "You said you had a thing."

"Ah, right, yes! That's right. A thing."

"You might wanna elaborate."

"No, no, no, only lies have detail." Sherlock stares into the camera for a couple of seconds. "Right, I just ... I need a moment to, um, figure out what I'm going to do."

"I can tell you what you can do." John mutters as he lifts his glass to drink from it. "You can stop being dead." I nodded my head in agreement.

"Okay." John and I are both startled, the way Sherlock managed to 'time' that perfectly. I rub my arms and glance at John. He doesn't say anything, but the exact same thing is on my mind as it is on his. "Okay, I'm ready now." He sits down in his armchair and then looks into the camera. "Hello, John. I'm sorry I'm not there at the moment, I'm very busy. However, many happy returns. Oh, and don't worry, I'm going to be with you again _very_ soon."

John's doorbell ring. He puts his glass on the table, reaches for the remote, pausing on Sherlock's face. John stands up and walks out of the room, allowing me a moment of privacy to wipe my eyes.

"Hello John?' It was Mary and I hear the concern in her voice. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Greg er, um, brought some things of Sherlock's by."

"Oh, I see."

Suddenly, the video resumes playing and I look up at the video as Sherlock smiles into the camera and winks. I jump up out of my chair and turn off the obviously haunted TV. set. I turned towards where John and Mary are embracing. I stand up and move towards the exit. "I've got to go." I say quickly. "I can't do this today John. How about tomorrow?"

He and Mary didn't ask me any questions. They just nodded as I quickly hurried out of the room. As I walk down the street, my mind reeled and I actually began toying with the possibilities that he was alive. But again, my logic ruled my head, he couldn't be alive! I presented a dozen reasons why he wasn't alive and I couldn't conjure up one thing that proved to me that he was alive.

Suddenly, a bouquet of red roses falls from the sky, directly in front of me, landing at my feet. I jump and look upwards as a window slams shut. And while my impulse to investigate it is strong, I choose to ignore it. After all, I'd thrown dozens of roses out of a window before, so what was unusual about someone throwing roses out a window?

I turn and run all the way back to Baker Street. I'm coughing when I round the corner to find Charles bringing his hand up to knock on the door. His eyes narrow as he takes in my appearance. He vaults down the steps and hurries up to me when I launch myself at him. he wraps his arms around me, holding me tight as I cling to him.

"Tammy," he asks. "what's wrong?"

"One…of those days?"

"What happened?" He asked. "Can you tell me?"

"No." I shake my head. "Just hold me." I beg. "No questions. Please."

But then Charles, being Charles, he doesn't ask me any questions. He nods and holds me tighter. "All right, I won't." He ran his hand down my head and through my hair. "I'm here Tammy, I'm here."

And he was here. He was here for me and I'd been a fool to realize that he'd been here for me the whole time. I'd opened my eyes, now all I had to do was open my heart. In that instant, I made my decision. If Charles ever proposed to me in the future, I was going to accept him.


	63. 63: A weekend in the country

Chapter sixty-three

A weekend in the country

* * *

_Four months later,_

* * *

I stared at Charles. "You did what?"

He laughed. "I've arranged for a weekend in the country, at my aunt's house, for you, I and the kids."

I couldn't form a coherent thought. "How…why did you do that?"

"You need a vacation. You're tired and I thought it would be good for you. Are you pleased?"

_A weekend in the country_. _What a wonderful thought! _I laughed and hugged him. "It's a wonderful idea. Thank you Charles!"

It was a wonderful idea. True, it was December now, and it was cold, but that's what made it great. The forests were beautiful and there was a flowing river that hadn't frozen over. When we took the kids outside, it was actually a bright, sunny and moderately warm day. The nights were the bad part of the deal, it was chilly outside and I'd cough.

Charles thought of everything from firewood down to the smore ice cream. Every night, I'd read Shakespeare to the children, yes, I know they didn't understand most of what I was saying, but they needed some art in their life. Charles had bought them some classical music for them to listen to when they took their nap. He'd slipped into the father role it was rather endearing for me to see.

Linda and Sherlock were eating on their own now and they got most of the food in their mouth. Sherlock, when he first tried feeding himself, he'd throw the food all over his head and I'd have to clean his hair. He didn't like his head being messed with, especially his hair. Linda, she was like me, bossy and independent. She'd always start these wrestling matches with Sherlock and then cry when he bit her!

Charles, he was a great father figure. I'd walk in on him and find him showing the children books, or he'd play the guitar for them. Both children were avid admirers of that guitar of his. Linda had a tremendous fondness of the song 'Pooh corner' he'd sang it to her once and she immediately demanded "More" in a very loud voice. They were starting to talk now, but it was only one-word sentences.

Charles sang it to her before she went to bed and she slept soundly. The children slept in the same room as me and Charles slept in the guestroom. I was so pleased that he'd kept everything respectable for me and I was glad. Once the children went to bed, he'd get the ice cream and we'd watch a movie together, huddled under blankets, on the couch. Unlike Sherlock, he didn't criticize the movies or predict the plot. It was when we were watching Yentl that I realized that I was falling in love with Charles. It became especially obvious when Barbara Streisand began singing 'Will someone ever look at me that way?' I glanced up at him; he was rubbing his hand repeatedly down my shoulder, gazing intently at the screen. As if feeling my gaze, he looked down at me, unblinking. We didn't say anything, but he must have known exactly what I was feeling.

The following morning, as Charles was helping me wash the dishes, I could tell that there was something on his mind, he wasn't sure how to say it. "Something on your mind?" I asked him, giving him a little prod.

"Yes."

"What is it?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "I'd like to suggest something, but…please let me finish, before you take my head off."

I nodded and handed. "All right, I'm interested, but I can't guarantee that I won't take your head off in the end."

He laughed and cleared his throat. "Once we return, I'd like to propose," at the word 'propose' my head shot up. The plate slipped from my hand back into the soapy sink water. "that….we move you, and the twins, into my suite." _That _I hadn't been expecting. My mouth dropped open in shock. "Now, I'm not suggesting anything improper. It's a large suite. There are two connecting rooms and there's a third room. You could have the two connecting rooms, make one into a nursery for the twins, and personalize one yourself. I could have the guestroom and," he clapped his hands together. "that'd be it."

I nodded and managed to get my dry mouth going. "I see…and…what's brought this around?"

He cleared his throat. "Actually, I've been thinking about it. I've got this…huge suite and it's rather, well…empty. It would be practical, for…us to share the suite. We could…monitor the children. I could watch them during the night when you're at the club. My shift, as you know, is a daytime shift, except in your case that is." I nodded. "And I give you my word that…I won't try anything…ungentlemanly."

"If you did, I just nod to John and he'd shoot you between the eyes."

He chuckled. "It's just that….things have been so-

"Perfect?" I offered.

"Yes! And you and Sherlock lived one flat above each other. This would be the same thing except the walls are….horizontal instead of vertical."

I chuckled. "Horizontal instead of vertical? Charming Charles." Sherlock threw his bottle down and I turned to go get it. "How about the rent?"

He shrugged. "I don't have to pay it until January."

"I see. so, would we split the rent?"

"Actually, if you wanted, I'd pay ¾ths of the rent."

I stared. "How come I only get to pay ¼th?"

"Well, you'd be doing the cooking, cleaning and watching the kids during the day. Why should you pay the bulk?"

"Why should you?"

"It's my flat!"

"It'd be mine too."

He exhaled. "So, will you think on it?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Out!" Linda pointed outside the window. Her face lit up as she saw a bird on the rail. "Birdie!"

Charles laughed. "Here, why don't I get them bundle up and you grab your coat and all?"

* * *

It was cold outside, but not too cold, fortunately. The sun was shining brightly through the forest and we walked down the cobblestone path to the river. We strayed off the patch to get closer to it. Linda was my little mermaid, she loved water, she loved drinking it and she loved her baths. She immediately went straight towards the water with Charles behind her.

Sherlock tripped on a rock and I had to steady him before he fell flat on his face. He glowered darkly as he knelt, grabbed the rock and threw it as far as he could! He was a brooder, but not today. I looked up where Charles was crouched beside the river with Linda; she was squealing and doing a happy dance as the cold water tickled at her fingers. Charles laughed as she kept trying to venture further out into the water.

I pulled Sherlock up. "Come on. Let's go see the water." Sherlock made a face, protruded his lower lip as we moved towards the water. I laughed. "You're so like your father."

"I hope you mean that in a good way." Charles called as he turned towards me. He turned around just as Linda did a belly landing in the shallow water. "Whoops!"

She squealed contentedly and splashed happily in the water. "Fun!" Charles knelt down beside her, flicking water in her face.

I looked down at Sherlock, just as he stuck a wet hand in his mouth. He let out a shout of disgust and made a face. I laughed as he got down on his knees and peered at the water, as if he was trying to see what made the river water different from pure water. Linda chose to reach behind her and splash him, some water landed in his open mouth. He jumped up, shaking the water from his head angrily. "Mommy! 'Inda wet me!"

I laugh and pick him up. "Sherlock, don't be such a party pooper." He glowered at me. "I'm sorry, but you are one."

Charles picked up the dripping wet Linda, who was now pouting. "I'm sorry Tammy."

I laughed. "It's ok. She's a water worm isn't she?"

He nodded. "Indeed she is."

"Daddy." Linda said quietly, covering her mouth with her hand.

My heart stopped and I looked at her, then up at Charles. The stunned look on his face assured me that he was taken by surprise as well. He shook his head. "I-I didn't Tammy. I never-

"I know you didn't." I said. "She takes after her father, hears something and just…knows. A movie, a book, probably just…put it together." I watched Linda, studying us intently. Sherlock had always said that I was an emotional person and I acted on the moment. Today, I did. "Yes Charles."

He frowned. "Yes Charles what?"

"Yes, Linda, Sherlock and I would be glad to move in with you."

Charles laughed and wrapped his arm around my waist. I leaned into his side and smiled as we looked towards the sunlight streaming through the trees. "Care to venture on back now?" he asked me.

I smiled and looked up at him. "Any time Charles," he looked down at me, reading the double meaning in my words. "just lead the way." He gripped my hand tightly and led me towards the future that would be awaiting us.

* * *

**Ok, we are all getting close to Sherlock showing up again. I am going INSANE waiting for Sherlock to make his big entrance. (And inspite of John not know how he did it, I REALLLY want to know HOW Sherlock faked that fall!) I will miss a day of updating, due to some volunteer work that will keep me from writing that day. It actually works well for me though. I thought I'd tell everyone so those who are used me updating 1, 2, or 3 times a day won't be surprised that I don't update.**

**Please! Vote at the poll! I've got a tie and it must be broken by the first! **


	64. 64: The forgotten of the heart

Chapter sixty-four

The forgotten of the heart

* * *

_Two weeks later,_

* * *

I surveyed my flat with a fallen heart. It was empty, devoid of everything that had been dear to me. I looked towards the mantle piece, remembering my wedding day; the look on Sherlock's face when he first saw me in my wedding dress. I still had my wedding dress, I'd boxed it up and put it away, just for the memories.

I closed the door and walked down to Sherlock's flat. I'd promised myself that I wouldn't look at the flat before I left, but then, I wouldn't be returning, so my sentimental side urged me to go inside. I pushed the door open and stood in the dusty room, not moving for a moment. I set down my bag, walked slowly into the room, walking up to the mantle. I smiled sadly as I ran my hand across the empty bookshelf, still sporting the dent in from where Sherlock had stabbed the Cluedo board there. I shook my head as so many memories flooded my mind. The room was empty now, the furniture had been sold except for Sherlock's chair, I'd kept that one. I cursed myself for my weakness at being unable to part with some of Sherlock's things.

I'd kept his books, clothes, his microscope and various other personal possessions. His papers were a mess and the notes made almost no sense. I'd put them into briefcases so Sherlock jr. could read them later on in life.

"Tammy?" I turned around to see Mrs. Hudson standing there. Her eyes clouded as she saw me. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'll let you say your goodbyes."

"It's all right," I assured her quietly as I approached her. "I'm not really saying my goodbyes. I don't think I've said goodbye to Sherlock. I don't think I can tell him goodbye."

Mrs. Hudson hugged me. "I'm sorry dear, you still miss him."

I nodded. "Less and less each day, but…during moments like these that…I think I could never love anyone else but Sherlock."

"And Charles?" she asked gently. "What about him?"

the bubble burst and I was called back to reality. I exhaled. "I could definitely fall in love with him. Sherlock, he just….left such a scarred, lasting impression on my heart. It's going to take a while to heal. Charles is simply wonderful, he's so loving, patient and understanding with me. I believe that once I'm out of here, free against the last reminders of Sherlock, I'll be free to live again."

She nodded. "I hope so my dear. I'm glad that you're happy with Charles. I can see it. you two…you're quite the handsome couple. The children adore him."

"Well, Sherlock's a little fickle. He goes back and forth between us. I wonder at times…if he suspects that Charles isn't his father."

"He's a baby. He couldn't know."

"He calls him Charles, all the time, I don't know if he's just copying me. Linda, she calls him Daddy. It's a strange thing to see. but then, he is his father reincarnate."

Mrs. Hudson nodded. "Indeed. I see so much of his father in him, it's possible. Linda has her father's eyes. When she's old enough, she's going to have dozens of boys chasing after her."

I groaned. "I didn't need to hear that." I glanced at my watch. "I should be going. Charles is waiting with the children."

"Yes." I stepped out of the room with Mrs. Hudson, refusing to take a second look back at the flat. "Do stop by once in a while." She said. "It will be so lonely without you and John now that you're both leaving."

"I will." I promised as I gave her a hug. "Sherlock, Linda and I will stop by every Sunday afternoon and we'll have tea."

"Do that dear," she sniffled, fighting against the tears. "I shall miss you."

I broke down and started crying. For a few moments, we just cried, holding each other. I didn't want to leave her totally alone, I'd grown to love her like a family relative. But it was for the best, she agreed with me. After a few moments, she pulled away and nudged me towards the door. "You best go now. Those children are waiting for you."

"All right." I hugged her tightly one last time. "I'll see you soon, I promise."

She walked down to the front door with me. My stomach swirled as I walked outside of 221B Baker Street leaving a huge part of my heart behind me. I came down the steps, hailed a taxi, while wiping my eyes.

"I should think of all people," I spun around to see Andersen behind me. "that _you _could see the signs. He is coming back Tammy."

"Don't use my given name." I snapped at him. "Mrs. Holmes, is proper for you to use."

"But you're not really the grieving widow are you?" He said. "You're moving out of his flat into a flat with a new man."

"It's not like that."

"Isn't it?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you. It's my life and I have to make the best of it

"I don't see why you're interested. You gave evidence against him ,or have you forgotten that? I haven't. Try to staunch the wound that you attempted to plunge into the back of a corpse?" I spat at him. I got into the taxi, slammed the door and the driver pulled away, leaving Andersen alone. I groaned and rubbed my aching forehead.

I entered the flat to find that Charles and the children weren't in sight. But, the first thing I saw was a piano. Not a grand piano, but an electrical one. I walked towards it and reached for the note. It was from Charles. _Music is a big part of one's life. Maybe we can create some memories together._

Many_ years ago I had a friend, a special friend who meant the world to me._ I smiled as Sherlock's face filled my mind. _It seemed we were together all the time, but that was then, now he's one I never see. a sudden shift of time, distance and space, somehow we just drifted apart. I guess another came along and took his place. Now he's one of the forgotten of the heart._

_The forgotten of the heart, the ghosts of time we've locked inside. Haunting rooms of distant memory, places for the past to hide. Far too many have arrived there, never to depart. Waiting, wanting to be wanted, the forgotten of the heart._ I leaned over the keyboard, concentrating on the music._ Think back on all the lovers you have known, and the family you've lost touch with through the years. Friends you used to work with long ago you realize they've slowly disappeared. There's so many people we don't make the time for but we've got to be willing to start. If we don't let each person know we love them they'll be more of the forgotten of the heart._

_ The forgotten of the heart, the ghosts of time we've locked inside. Haunting rooms of distant memory, places for the past to hide. Far too many have arrived there, never to depart. Waiting, wanting to be wanted, the forgotten of the heart. __How easily they slip right through our fingers, in our busy lives they're so far down the list. When our days are at an end we finally realize exactly what we've missed. All the joy that we've denied. Like a gift that's left un-open, never knowing what inside. They have so much more to give us, untold riches to impart. One of life's important measures, remembering the forgotten of the heart. We should see them all as treasures and not as the forgotten of the heart._

I grabbed Linda and lifted her up. "You're going to be a singer, aren't you?"

"Charming." Charles said. "Marvelous performance by you both."

"Where's Sherlock?"

"Oh. He's coloring." He shrugged. "He's in his own little world today." I smiled. "And you, are you ok?"

I nodded. "I am Charles. I'm just having withdrawal symptoms." I stood up. "Now, I better get back to work. This suite definitely isn't going to decorate itself!"

* * *

**The delay was much longer than expected. My computer has been acting up so much so recently that I had to set it back to factory settings. It's taking FOREVER to put everything back on! Happy New Year everyone and tomorrow...we find out HOW Sherlock survived that fall!**


	65. 65: Didn't you see the movie?

Chapter sixty-five

Didn't you see the movie?

John had grown a moustache. Mrs. Hudson and I didn't really like it, saying that it aged him. Mary, didn't like it either, but she hadn't gotten the nerve to tell him yet. John told me that he'd gone into Sherlock's flat, and the dust was thickly, covering everything. But on the brighter side of things, he was going to propose to Mary. I was glad he texted me, for I couldn't honestly know how I'd react when I heard him over the phone.

_Heaven hold me this feels lonely. A girl might have just one dream that means the world. I asked the waiter, "Can he save her? Or would he leave her there would he want her to stay? Would he pick up all the pieces? Or leave her alone to break?" _

I stood up from my chair, moved around, searching the audience, seeking them out. _Can you tell me what happens in the scene? I think I've watched this one before. Is this the part where you come back for me? Did you read those lines? Did you see how it ends? Won't you come back will you try to love again? _I spotted Charles walking backstage, I lifted my hand and discreetly smiled at him. He waved at me then he continued walking towards the stage. _Say goodbye now I won't cry now. The room is clear the last man just walked out the door. _I wondered where the children were, since he typically watched them. Then, I noticed he held a bouquet of deep pink roses in his hands. My voice almost cracked as I watched him leave my line of vision. _Now I realize what I'm still standing here, waiting for. Can you tell me what happens in this scene? I think I've watched this one before. Is this the part where you come back for me? Did you read those lines? Did you see how it ends? Won't you come back will you try to love again? _

_Didn't you see the movie where he realizes he still needs her? Did you read the story where he chases her down all through town, because she's the best thing he ever had. _My mind actually strayed towards the end scene with Colin Firth where he walks all through the city of...wherever it was to find the woman he loved, with a flash mob behind her. _He ever had. _

That's when, a cold, chilly hand went down my neck and spine. My stomach clenched tightly and my heart rate sped up. I felt these eyes...staring deep into my soul. And I didn't know where. I scanned the club, looking for the source. _Can you tell me what happens in the scene? I think I've watched this one before. _Then, my eyes fell on a tall, dark figure. I couldn't see him directly. _Is this the part where you come back for me? Did you read those lines? _I recognized the shape, vaguely, but I couldn't get a real good look at him, due to the stage lights shinning in my eyes. _Did you see how it ends? Won't you come back will you try to love again? Didn't you see the movie? Didn't you see the movie?_

The audience applauded and I bowed, keeping an eye on that figure. After a few moments, I turned and walked off the stage and the figure stood there. I turned and pushed my dressing room door open. Charles stood up, extending the bouquet of roses towards me. "Hello. Where are the kids?"

"Oh. I asked Amy to come and watch them for an hour. I had to talk to you."

I sat down, accepting the roses. I touched a velvet petal. "It must be serious."

"It is." I looked towards Charles, just as he got down on one knee. My heart jumped and I dropped the roses in surprise. He reached into his pocket, opened up a ring box, revealing a ring with a huge diamond. "Tammy, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

I stared down at him dumbly. I reached down and took the ring from his hand, studying it, before studying the man who was asking me. Tears filled my eyes and I nodded. I was happy, just not...passionately happy about marrying him. It hadn't grown into a passionate love yet, but it could, or so I kept telling myself. I didn't hesitate in answering him. "Yes." I said wiping my eyes. "I'd be proud to marry you Charles."

Charles exhaled and placed the ring on my hand. I'd removed Sherlock's wedding ring from my hand the day I moved in with Charles. There was a light tan, revealing where my ring had been. As Charles slid the ring on my hand, someone knocked on the door. I jumped and spun towards the door.

"Come in."

"Tammy?" Charles asked. "Are you all right?"

I turned towards him. "I don't know. I have this...feeling."

Charles stood up as the door creaked open slowly. For a few seconds, the person didn't enter. Then, the man entered, keeping his face downwards. I couldn't get a direct look until his face came into full light and when it did, I could only stare at him. I stared at him for several minutes before I jumped up from my chair. I dropped the ring box on the ground, and didn't even give it a second thought or second look.

For standing before me, no, now walking towards me….was the man I'd sworn I'd love for all my life, who'd died two years ago. "Sherlock?" I whispered.

I couldn't move, I don't what angel or mysterious being was holding me up. If this was a ghost, it was a cruel one. But I was reassured that it wasn't a ghost for Sherlock pulled me into his arms, arms that I had missed for so long. I shiver and shake as sobs make their way up from my stomach to my throat. I felt his mouth on my face, my cheek, my neck and then finally my trembling mouth.

Oh merciful heavens! The passion, the chemistry and the magic was so much that it was as if the two years he was absent had never happened. My foolish heart was in a mad rush, instantly forgiving him for every day of his absence. My mind registered that my husband was alive and in my arms. I started crying hard as a massive, turmoil of emotions surrounded me, joy, relief, shock, passion, confusion, happiness and love.

My legs couldn't hold me up anymore and Sherlock lifted me up and into his arms. "This is a dream." I cried as Sherlock kissed held me close, my arms were clasped tightly about his neck. "My mind….is playing tricks on me."

"I'm here Tammy." Sherlock murmured, breathing into my ear. "I'm here."

I pulled back and looked into his eyes. My eyes narrowed as I took in the sight of the face that I'd been trying to keep out of my mind. Now, he was here, with me again. He'd lost weight, he looked slightly nervous, I could feel the tension in his shoulders. My eyes narrowed as I took in the sight of a bloody lip and a cut on his chin. He had marks around his throat, as if someone had tried to strangle him. His nose was slightly swollen and the small traces of blood informed me that someone had punched him in the nose.

I ran my hand down the side of his face, he closed his eyes, obviously enjoying my touch. "What happened? I asked. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." He took ahold of my hand, pressed a kiss to my palm. "John didn't take it as well as you did."

"Sherlock Holmes I presume?" I gasp and my heart freezes in my chest. Ice-cold sweat starts to roll down my forehead and down my back as I slowly begin to realize what a big, emotional, mess I was in. while I was overjoyed at seeing Sherlock, I wasn't his wife anymore, or at least I don't think that I was. Charles scowled at Sherlock and Sherlock glowered back at him.

"Yes." Sherlock peered down his nose at Charles, taking advantage of the extra inches that caused him to tower over Sherlock. "Who are you?"

"Put me down." I whisper and Sherlock thankfully, did as I asked.

"Charles walker."

"Oh," Sherlock studied him. "what are you doing here? You're not a guitar player." His eyes narrowed. "You're a doctor, a child specialist, very ambitious. I can tell by your personal level of grooming that you're a well recognized figure in the society pages."

"Sherlock." I cut him off. "Not now, please."

Sherlock ignored me. '"In fact, I'd like to know what you're doing in

"I'm her fiancé."

"Charles, don't!" I shouted.

But I was way too late, the words were out, the damage was done. I felt Sherlock's entire body stiffen under my hands. "Her what?!" Sherlock was angry, his rage was barely controlled. "You're mistaken, she's my wife." I couldn't speak, I held up my hand, showing Sherlock that I was now wearing Charles's ring. Sherlock stared at it for a moment, suddenly, he grabbed my hand, pulled the ring off my hand and threw it at the mirror, cracking it! "Sherlock!"

"I can't believe this!" He snapped angrily. "You swore, that you'd give yourself to no other, except me!"

I stared at him in disbelief. He'd died! Well, as far as I knew he was dead! I hadn't seen him! I hadn't heard from him! Now, he just shows up out of nowhere, acting as if everything was all right! And he was throwing my wedding vows smack into my face, making me feel guilty! How dare he! I was slowly become aware of all the pain, hurt, tears and trauma he'd put me through in the last two years.

"It's been two years Sherlock!" I bit out, fighting against the anger that was rising up from my toes to my throat, threatening to engulf me and make me look like the human torch. "You, were, dead. I had no choice but to move on with my life."

"What life?" He asked flippantly. "I've been away."

That did it! The fire shot out through my hair and I rounded angrily towards Sherlock, ready to tear him into pieces.


	66. 66: Never enough

Chapter sixty-six

Never enough

"Charles has been here for me when I needed him! He gave me comfort, love and support when I needed it most! He's wonderful with the children!" I shook with rage. "And you dare to tell me that he's not good enough for me!? You went off for two years around the world and didn't even think of sending me a message!? How dare you! And how do I know that you've been faithful to me?"

"Because unlike you, I honored _my _marriage vows!"

"You're despicable!" I shrieked. "And how dare you say that Charles isn't good enough for me?"

Sherlock didn't hesitate to answer. "He deserves better than you. You'll only break his heart."

"What?" I had almost reached the breaking point.

"You're not good enough because you're still in love with me." His eyes blazing were blazing with fury. "You never stopped loving me." I let out several aggravated shrieks. "Your first reaction wasn't to faint, scream, or cry. The first thing you did was call my name and hug me."

"I was confused."

"No you didn't." He stated. "You wanted me back and you know it."

"That's enough, now step away from her. Charles gave Sherlock a shove for good measure before standing protectively beside me.

"She's my wife."

"She was your wife!" Charles shouted. "That was two years ago! You've no claim on her now. What kind of a man are you? Haven't you hurt her enough?"

"I had my reasons. I did what I had to do to protect her."

"You killed her!" Charles shouted. "Tammy and I have spent hours and hours talking about you. I won't deny that she loved you, but it was obvious to me that you didn't think of her feelings at all when you took off like that!" Charles handed me our engagement ring, but I couldn't slide it on, in front of Sherlock. "When you love someone, you never hurt them."

"I assume that you both think that I did this for my own pleasure. I didn't. I knew it would hurt and devastate you Tammy, but I had no other choice."

"Hurt me? Devastate me?" I shook my head. "You killed me Sherlock. I thought that my heart had died. Then molly texts me to give me the grand announcement that I was pregnant!"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cover it Sherlock."

"What else can I say?"

"That's just it. Nothing, you can say, will ever be good enough. Nothing can make up for the mental and physical cruelty and anguish that you heaped upon me in those two years. It was like I was loosing my mind! Two years! And not once did you think to tell one word! One word! Why on earth couldn't you have at least warned me! Or told me that you were going to vanish for a while and not to worry?"

"Because you would have worried anyway!"

"Damn right I would, but at least I would have known that you were alive. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Believe me Tammy," he said. "I wanted to contact you so many times. I almost broke down on our anniversary, both times and called you. But I thought you'd be unable to keep my death a secret."

"What?!"

"You'd have let the cat out of the bag."

"Oh, so this is my fault!" I screamed. "How is it my fault!"

"Oh for God's sake! You're too emotional! Look at you now! Shrieking your head off! I don't want everyone knowing I'm still alive!"

"Oh, it's still a secret?"

"Yes! It is a secret!"

"Oh! Fine! My lips are sealed!"

Charles took my arm. "Tammy, let's go. You should lie down for a bit. Calm yourself and think this through."

Sherlock was silent for a moment. "Allow me to open your eyes before you get anymore grand delusions about her." He grabbed the chain around my neck and lifted it, revealing the three rings he'd given me, still on the chain. "Look. She still wears _my_ promise ring, engagement and _my_ wedding ring. Judging by the tan line on her neck, she hasn't taken it off. The wrinkles in her skin prove that she's slept in them as well. I daresay if you looked at her breasts, you'd see that there are little bruises from where they've been pressing into her skin at night." I swatted his hand away. I didn't know where to look and I couldn't look at Charles. "You've handed her back her engagement ring, and she hasn't put it on yet. If she were in love with you, she would have put it on to show me that I clearly don't have a part in her life anymore. But she hasn't. It's fairly obvious that she is still in love with me, so do the two of us a favor and get out of her life."

My phone rang and I turned towards it. I lifted it up to see it was from Mrs. Holmes. Desperate to hear a sensible voice, I answered it. "Hello?"

_Tammy? _She sounded so distressed, but she was trying to be strong for me. _"Are you all right?_

"As fine as can be expected." I said shooting Sherlock a glare. "I'm taking it rather calmly, all things considered. When I'd really _love _to chop him into a bunch of little pieces!"

Sherlock snorted. "You don't have the stomach for blood."

"Shut up!" I snapped at him. "Just shut up!"

_Tammy, I'm calling for another reason. Not just to warn you about Sherlock being alive._

I exhaled. "After tonight, I can take anything."

_You two...you're not legally married anymore. _I sank down onto the cot. _Mycroft had all of your marriage papers liquidated, to make things look better. _

"Or to get me to accept his proposal." I murmured. "I haven't forgotten. Thank you. We're...shouting at each other currently, and I definitely needed this information."

_Tammy, try not to be too angry with him. He did it for you._

I wasn't ready to hear this. "I don't believe that." I looked up at Sherlock. "He's the great Sherlock Holmes, he doesn't need anyone and it doesn't matter to him who he hurts as long as he solves every little puzzle. You don't break the heart of someone you love. You don't run out on them for two years, without a word, and then waltz back in as if nothing had happened!"

She sighed. _I'll let you two talk. I'd say goodnight, but there's nothing good about it, is there?_

"For you, yes, your son is alive. Me, I just accepted another man's proposal and my not-so-dead husband walks in the door. Goodbye." I turn the phone off and looked at the two men who were having a stare down, and as usual, Sherlock was winning. "Well, Sherlock, you might want to have a talk with Mycroft about what his motives were when he liquidated our marriage papers." Sherlock blinked in surprise. "We...aren't married anymore." I turned to Charles. "Take me home, now, please."

Charles nodded and took my arm as Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "Why don't I take you?" Sherlock said. "We need to talk about this."

"We'll talk about this in the morning Sherlock." I said. "I'm not up to it."

"Well, I'd like to know why you're acting as if you're not interested in resuming our relationship." I stopped and bit my lip. God! Why was he so dense at times!? "After all, our vows were until death do us part."

"And you _were _dead. So we have parted."

"Come on, Baker Street is only a few minutes away."

"That's just it Sherlock." I said as Charles helped me into my coat. "You don't know anything. I don't live at Baker Street anymore. And I haven't for a few months now."

"Where did you move to then?" Charles and I remained silent, waiting for Sherlock to figure out what we weren't saying. Sherlock's eyes flashed. "You live with him!?"

"We share a flat." Charles spat at him.

Sherlock stared at me. "What? Tammy!" Sherlock swore violently several times and I stared at him. "How could you?" I jumped as he shouted angrily at me. "I've been faithful to you! I come back and find you-

"How was I to know?!" I shouted at him.

"Have you had sex with her?" Sherlock demanded. "If you have-

"He's a gentleman Sherlock!" I shouted as my face heated bright red. "And don't you dare think so low of me!"

"You moved in with him?"

"We haven't been intimate in any way, shape or form! We have separate quarters!" My head ached and I groaned. "I can't take anymore of this! I have to see the children and make sure they're all right!"

"Again, you mention children." Sherlock said. "What children?"

"Yours!" I shout. "You bastard!" Sherlock looks as if he's about keel over in disbelief. I shocked him. For once in my life I actually shocked him instead of surprising him. Whether it's because of my swearing or the grand announcement that he had children, I couldn't tell. "We had twins, Sherlock. A boy and a girl. I found out I was a month pregnant after you jumped."

He shook his head. "Mycroft never said anything."

I laughed. "Why would he? Considering that the very eve I gave birth to your children, he proposed to me!"

Sherlock's head shot up and he frowned. "He what?"

"Your brother, asked me, to marry him." I said, spelling it out slowly for him. "Your death, was a good enough excuse to get close to me."

"And did he?" Sherlock asked.

I shook my head. "No, because I was in love with you. After that, I met Charles."

"And you fell head over heels in love with him?" Sherlock said sarcastically. "How romantic."

"No. I didn't."

Charles spoke up. "I was the specialist who examined Tammy afterwards, making sure that she and the babies were all right."

"What are their names Tammy?" Sherlock asked, again, still ignoring Charles.

"Linda May and Sherlock Hamish."

Sherlock made a face. "You named my son after John?"

"Sherlock!" I screamed. "He's my son! He's not yours!" Sherlock stared at me, as if he realized that how deep he'd hurt me. "You haven't been here for him! you haven't been here for me! don't put a label on something that clearly doesn't belong to you!"

Charles took hold of my arm. "Come on. Let's go."

"So my plan worked then?" The ludicrous statement of his stopped me in my tracks. I spun around to eye Sherlock. "I got you pregnant Tammy. I wasn't sure if it had worked, but I did that for you. I left you with two children, my blood flows through their veins. I wasn't completely gone those two years."

I couldn't listen to another word from him anymore. I couldn't. I took off running down the hall as if demons were chasing me. Charles and I immediately got a cab, and thankfully, Sherlock _did not _follow after me. My hands shook, I was still crying silently, and I didn't know what to do.

I woke up of my stunned world, when Charles took the ring from my clenched fist and returned it to the box. "I guess I better see if they'll accept a refund." I could only stare at him. He smiles sadly. "I'm sure this happens all the time for them."

"Charles."

"Not a word Tammy." He says quietly. "I saw you. I know."

"You know what?"

"That you're still in love with him." Charles shook his head. "I couldn't compete with a corpse or ghost, how can I compete with him now?"

"We're not married Charles. And I don't know if I can trust him with me or my children. I definitely don't know if I can't trust my heart again. For months, I cried over his death. I defended him publicly and won a lawsuit in his defense!"

"I still would like to know, why he did it." Charles said. "He said he did it for you, but he never said why."

I sat still as daylight broke over me. I didn't know why Sherlock had done it. "Taxi, stop." I said. "Now."

"Tammy?"

"Charles, please, keep an eye on the children." I got out of the taxi. "I'll be back in an hour."

"Where are you going?"

"Scene of the crime." I said. "I'm going to find out why."

"And how?"

"He'll never tell me all of his methods. He'll probably tell me someday, if we're still talking to each other." I slammed the cab door. "Keep an eye on the children for me. I don't trust my dearest possessions to just anyone."

"Thank you Tammy." He said. "But, they're not my possessions. They're his."

"Charles."

"I know what was wrong with us Tammy. I thought…for a time I could honestly make you love me."

"I do care for you Charles. I do, I tried, I swear it."

"And I'm surprised your heart didn't break in the attempt. You did try. But when he came in the door….I saw your face light up and the way you clung to him, I just wasn't enough for you. I never was."

"Then why did you hold up that pretense the whole time in front of him?"

"Maybe, he'll treat you better knowing that he almost lost you to someone else." He smiled faintly. "Good luck."

I leaned through the open window and kissed Charles on the mouth. "Thank you Charles. You're one of a million. And believe me, it's better to be one of a million than one in a million."

Charles didn't say anything and I stood there, watching the taxi pulled away. I turned and walked briskly towards Baker Street. Tonight, I needed answers. Why? Why had he done that?


	67. 67: Why?

Chapter sixty-seven

Why?

I pushed the door open to Baker's Street, almost whacking Mrs. Hudson. "Oh!" She jumped. "Tammy! Sherlock! He's-

"I know." I said. "I've come to talk to him again."

"Oh, good luck dear. He's upset."

"Who isn't?" I muttered as I ran up the stairs. I pushed his door open with a bang, Sherlock was in his bedroom, removing his shirt. I stomped towards him, but stopped short as I saw his back. His back, had welts and whip marks, as if he'd been tortured. All my anger whooshed out of me and I walked towards him. Sherlock, as if sensing my presence, paused, not moving.

I reached out, and touched a wound gently. "Your hands are cold." Sherlock murmured.

"What happened to you?" I asked. "You were beaten."

"Lead pipe. Mycroft definitely enjoyed watching it."

"Why?"

"I was wrapping up a mission undercover." He turned towards me. "What are you doing here?"

"I followed you." I stuck my hands in my pockets and shifted uncomfortably. "I've calmed down, somewhat, and I'd liked to talk now."

Sherlock nodded and reached for his shirt, putting it back on. "Ok."

"Don't you have to put something on those cuts?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I've got a salve of sorts, I'll put it on later."

"Get it and I'll put it on." Sherlock didn't offer a protest, he obediently fetched me the small container of the salve. I walked out into the dining Sherlock followed me. "Take off your shirt," I instructed casually. "and I'll apply it." Sherlock nodded and removed his shirt. I dipped a finger in, and rubbed it gently into the marks. Sherlock let out a small groan and I paused. "Does that hurt?"

"No." He said. "It feels wonderful." I frowned, wondering if the medication had a pleasing, cooling effect. "It's been a long time since I've felt your hands on me." His voice rattled my nerves and I paused for a second. "I've missed it. I've missed you."

I stiffened, forcing my guard up around my heart. "Don't try to get around me that way. It won't work."

"Always did."

"And that was before you disappeared for two years, without a word, leaving me to raise your children on my own."

"I didn't know you had the babies," he stated. "how could I know? I had to stay away from london for the time being."

"Well, if Andersen knew you were alive then the others who you were hiding from, must be exceptionally dense."

Sherlock frowned. "What does Andersen have to do with this?"

"Oh, he's been telling everyone for months that you're alive. He's even set up a club where people try to figure out how you faked your fall."

Sherlock chuckled. "Andersen would like to know how wouldn't he?"

"How did you fake?"

he tilted his head to the side. "You don't want to know 'why', first?"

I exhaled. "Put your shirt on." I walked over to the sink to wash my hands. "All right, I'd like to know 'why' first, then 'how', if you don't mind."

"I've got all night."

"I don't." I dried my hand towards Sherlock. He left his shirt unbuttoned, hanging open. I had a difficult time focusing on his face. We weren't legally married, but I wanted him, I wanted him near me. I was still attracted to him, dangerously attracted to him. But I had to fight the attraction for the time being. I needed to know where we were going to go from here. I set the rag down on the counter and leaned against it. "So? Explain away."

Sherlock exhaled. "Ok, uhm, Moriarty had to be stopped."

"He made you jump, didn't he?"

He frowned. "Not really. Moriarty's network had to be dismantled. John, Mrs. Hudson, Molly and Lestrade were in danger of being killed." I straightened slightly. "He'd hired assassins to take them out."

"And me?" I asked. "What was he going to do to me?"

Sherlock bit his lip and shuddered slightly. "You don't want to know."

"Yes, I do." I said firmly. "It had better be a good reason."

Sherlock was silent. "You were going to be kidnapped and tortured." My heart stopped as Sherlock continued. "I can't tell you the details."

"Because you don't know them?"

he shook his head. "No. because…it's to…gruesome for you to hear." I frowned at him. "Alright. His elements of torture would have included the most violent forms of rape, any way possible. Chaining you up, beating you, starving you, stabbing you, drugging you. He told me about how after he'd had his men whip every layer of skin off your body, how you'd be sliced to pieces before being burnt."

"I see, no more details." I cross my arms. "He really hated me then."

"He knew I loved you." I dropped my gaze to the floor, but Sherlock stepped forward, tilting my chin upwards. "I still do. I don't know what happened between you and Charles, but I've come to conclusion that I don't want to loose you."

Curse that purring voice of his. Sherlock knew exactly how to break my heart. "Oh, you're a devil." I snarled. "You can twist the heart of a girl with words just as easy as one can break her arm to hurt her."

"Oh stop it with the movie quotes Tammy," he said in that annoyed tone of his. "it's really annoying."

"I am not-

"My fair lady, Audrey Hepburn."

"It was a play before it was a musical and it never crossed my mind! It's just popped out!" The sound of a ringing doorbell, startled me. I exhaled, realizing I should be going back to Charles. "I'm leaving."

"Actually, you're staying here."

"We're not married!"

"We _were_ married and I'm not letting you out of my sight again." His intense gaze caused me to pause. "You could call Charles but you're not going to do that."

"And why not?" I demanded.

"Because Charles just dropped the kids off."

I opened my mouth to argue, but I distinctly heard the sound of my babies crying. I hurried towards the door as Mrs. Hudson made her way up the stairs, holding onto each of their hands. Amy was there, carrying their collapsible cribs. I hurried down the stairs. "What's going on?"

Amy shrugged. "Charles told me to bring them down here. There's an emergency at the hospital and I can't stay and watch them. I am so sorry, but I really, must be on my way home. He had me bring their cribs though."

"Mommy." Linda whined, holding her arms out for me.

I knelt and picked her up. "I know. I'm sorry baby. You're tired. I know." I turned to Amy. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

I glanced at Sherlock, he'd knelt and was glaring at his son, who was glaring back at him. I watched the two of them, silently deducing each other. Sherlock jr. was the first to make a move, and he responding by walking up to Sherlock and latching onto Sherlock's shirt lapels. Sherlock was stunned for a moment, but he did pick up Sherlock jr. I bit my lip and fought back the tears as I watched father and son together, for the first time. I could see the instant Sherlock fell in love with his son and tears burned my eyes as he hugged him tightly, breathing in his baby scent.

I cleared my throat. "We need to get them set up for bed. Mrs. Hudson, my flat, is it open?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry my dear. I've all ready leased it."

I exhaled. "I see."

"If you find Tammy and I some extra blankets, we'll be fine."

I spun around. "I _am not _sharing a bed with you."

"We're sharing the floor." He said turning on his heel and walking towards the bedroom. "And I will not listen to you making any feeble excuses Tammy. Come on."

I groaned and followed him as he grabbed the cribs with one hand and moved into the bedroom. He set Sherlock jr. down and began setting up the cribs. Sherlock jr. latched onto his father's pant leg and wouldn't let go. Sherlock glowered down at him. "Attachable little thing isn't he?"

I shook my head as I set Linda down. "No. he's a loner. He must know who you are. He is your son after all." I bit my lip before asking. "You didn't know?" I asked. "You honestly didn't know I was pregnant?"

"No. Mycroft figured correctly that I would have come back here, placing you in immediate danger."

"And you didn't deduce that there was something different about me?"

"I was deducing your body language, not you. But I should have noticed there was something different about you." He said as he stepped towards me. "But I was so worried and excited about seeing you, that I didn't really deduce." I jumped slightly as he placed his hands on my waist, I would have pushed away, except he had his eyes closed. I stood there as he brought his hands up my waist. "I can see now. You've lost weight Tammy."

"I've never heard of unhappy people gaining weight before."

His hands ghosted over my breasts and I shivered. "You've matured in some areas, appropriate for motherhood." He opened his eyes and my heart caught in my chest. "But you're still beautiful. Still the same woman I fell in love with."

He wasn't going to make this easy on me. He knew I was a puppet on a string and he controlled me. He knew what strings to pull and I'd go that way. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on my forehead. I pulled away from him and turned my back. "Finish making the cribs. I'll get the blankets from Mrs. Hudson."

"She's all ready left them on the counter."

"Then I'll see if she has a nightdress I can borrow."

"You can use my shirt." I paused. "I sleep with my shirt off, speeds up the healing process."

I turned towards him as he undid his shirt and handed it to me. "Thank you. But you _will _keep your hands off me! I mean it!"

He shrugged. "I can't make any promises."

"Well, I'll help you keep it!" I said directly. "If you even look like you're about to touch me, you're going to be sorry!"

Sherlock laughed. "I'll take you over terrorists any day. You are rather easy to handle."

"Don't bet on it Sherlock. I throw chairs and tables with stunning accuracy. I never miss."

"Well, I'll take you up on that when you find some chairs and tables to throw!" My temper flared and I stomped into the bathroom, with Sherlock's laughter following me. He could try to break me down, but he wasn't going to win me over.


	68. 68: Killing me softly

Chapter sixty-eight

Killing me softly

I studied myself in the mirror and though Sherlock's shirt fit me loosely, I felt nervous going into the room with just a shirt on. I surveyed my appearance, feeling sick to my stomach. I had lost weight and I didn't feel attractive at all. The shirt was white, and my curves were transparent through the material. I folded my clothes and left them on the bathroom counter, turned out the light and walked out of the bathroom. Sherlock was on a mattress, under the covers and his head shot up the instance I opened the door. Heat flushed all over my body at his gaze.

I shifted uncomfortably, and then I realized that there was only one mattress, room for us both of us. I frowned at the mattress and he immediately began to explain. "Mrs. Hudson had a spare mattress. I made it up." He drew back the covers. "Come on to bed."

I frowned as I moved forward. "I don't know how, but you managed to make that sound quite racy."

Sherlock smirked. "Maybe."

"The children are here."

"They're asleep. Linda doesn't like me. I think she takes after you."

"She was calling Charles 'Daddy' these past few weeks." I got onto the low mattress, carefully keeping the shirt down around my knees. "She's going to wonder where he went."

Sherlock's eyes studied me, causing me to flush. I got under the blanket, rolled on my side as I tucked the blankets around my chin. I shivered slightly, hating the coldness of the bed. But I had no alternative besides going to a hotel, but it was almost 2:00 now and I was not in the mood to go find a room.

"Cold?" Sherlock murmured, causing a chill to run down my spine.

"No." I lied smoothly. I curled myself into a fetal position. My eyes strayed to the only chair in the bedroom, with Sherlock's pants draped over the back of the chair. My heart rate sped up when I realized that he must be wearing only his boxers. It made sense, being the proper dresser that he was; he didn't want to have his only set of trousers wrinkled.

"Mycroft tracked down the warehouse where you put all of my stuff." He said calmly. "It'll be here tomorrow."

'Hurrah." I said sarcastically. "Lucky for you that I'm a sentimental person. Someone other than me would have thrown everything out. Now, let's get some sleep."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I huffed. "though I don't know what's good about it at the moment."

Silence reigned for a long moment, and then Sherlock began to speak. "You didn't honestly think that I was dead Tammy? If Andersen could see it, then why couldn't you?" I bit my lip in aggravation. "I told you once that I'd tell you that I loved you one last time on my death bed. I didn't say that when I jumped. Come on Tammy," agitation crept into his voice. "you're clever enough to remember something like that!"

"As a matter of fact, I did think that. Then I see your body falling through the air to the ground below!" I spat at him. "I still remember what you said to me, or have you forgotten?" I spun around and glared darkly at him. "Your exact words were, "I don't love you. If I did, I'd find it easier to say that I loved you. But how can you love someone, when you bought them? I bought you for the price of a wedding band. You wouldn't give me what I wanted, so I married you." Bile churned in my stomach and I flopped onto my side. "Your brother was right, I only married you for sex. You're not good for much else." And evidently, I'm glad you did criticize _that_! Since I am so inexperienced in that area as well.

"I didn't mean it." He said as he reached for my hand. I wanted to pull it out of his grasp, but I couldn't. "It hurt Tammy, like a thousand knives have been stuck into my chest. And believe me," he murmured. "you were perfect to me. I love your hesitance; it's part of your charm. It's you; it's your character. And when you actually get a little playful, it never fails to delight and surprise me."

Tears filled my eyes, and I clenched my legs together tightly. I would not allow him to see me cry. "I'm tired."

"Don't you want to know how it was for me?"

"No."

"It was horrible." Sherlock said quietly. "Every night, those words would echo in my head." I bit my lip as he continued speaking. "I missed you. I'd go to sleep at night and realize that I actually missed how you always smelled of Elizabeth Taylor's perfumes. I found out...I missed the stupidest of things. Your tears, the way your eyes that flash when you're upset, the way you hum when you're washing dishes." I bit down on my finger to keep from sobbing. "I remembered...the way you'd laugh. I'd remember the way you felt under my hands, the little whimpers you made when I kissed you." My shoulders began shaking, but he didn't stop. "I'd go to sleep, reminiscing about the way you blushed so on our wedding day, remember, when I sucked the frosting off your finger? And the day I gave you the promise ring? The look on your face and the sounds you were making when I had you trapped against the library wall. I missed the way you'd bite your lip most of all."

"Stop it." I whisper. "Stop it."

Sherlock was silent for a long time. I could feel his eyes studying me intently. I could practically hear his brain clicking madly, trying to come up with the next words to say to me. "Can I hold you?" he asked me quietly. I trembled and bit my lip harder than ever. I tasted blood. "Please?" He leaned over me and ran his hand down my shoulder. I couldn't find the heart to shrug his hand off my shoulder. It just felt…right. "I must hold you for a moment. It's been two years Tammy."

"Sherlock." I tried to sound angry, but the hurt came out of me instead. "Stop it." Sherlock pulled me against him and I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth from his chest against my back. "Don't."

He turned me onto my side, forcing me to look into his face. My weak heart trembled, as I looked into those beautiful eyes of his, drowning in them. I could have sworn that he was sincerely upset about what he'd done to me. He then gently ran his hand down my face, causing me to shiver. I started crying as he pressed me against his bare chest. His strong arms circled my waist as he held me tightly in his arms, refusing to let me go. "I love you Tammy."

I shook my head. "No, you don't."

"I love you," he pressed a kiss to my closed eyes. "I love you, I love you."

"Stop saying that." I begged him as he continued kissing every spot on my face. "You don't mean it."

"I do."

"Stop…kissing me." I asked. "Please."

His lips covered mine and my whole body reacted as I felt Sherlock's mouth on mine. I whimpered and he continued kissing me gently. I felt tears run down my cheeks and Sherlock kissed them away. I could hear moans coming from my mouth as I moved in closer to him. I trembled violently as our bodies were pressed completely together for the first time in a two year absence. It was as if our bodies were magnets and they just clicked together, a perfect match and a perfect fit.

"God." Sherlock groaned quietly before smothering me in a kiss.

I grabbed a hold of his shoulders tightly, probably inflicting some pain, but I didn't hear Sherlock complain. I missed him, I wanted him and I needed him. Not physically, but emotionally. His hands grabbed my hips and I cried out against his mouth as his hands made their way under the shirt. I whimpered as he rolled ontop of me, pinning me underneath him. My mind immediately began to scream against this, protesting this course of actions. It was too soon, and he was moving _way _to fast for me! But before I could protest, he broke the kiss and pulled away. My heart was thundering madly in my ears and my chest heaved deeply. For a moment, the only things that could be heard was our heavy breathing.

"I'm sorry." I stared up at Sherlock; I was completely shocked by his words. "I'm moving too fast, right?"

I nodded. "Sherlock, it's too soon."

He nodded. "Yeah, and the children are also a few feet away."

I blushed and nodded. When he rolled off me and he turned to give me my distance, I reached out and touched his arm. His head whipped around and he looked down at my hand on his arm. "But, please hold me." I saw a flicker of hope in his eyes as the words left my mouth. "I am cold and I do need you."

"I need you." He said as he pulled me into his arms, resting his head on the crown of my head. "You're the only one I need Tammy."

I exhaled, wrapped my arms around him and closed my eyes, breathing him in deeply. I know, I was being foolish giving into him like this, but I wasn't going to have intercourse with Sherlock. Our marriage had been annulled for us, but I wasn't going to let him get me in that position again. As I drifted asleep, in his wonderful arms, my mind began putting together some terms and conditions. If Sherlock wanted me, he'd have to have me properly. With his wedding ring on my hand and all the papers in proper order. _But what if he doesn't want to go through all that again? _It was a chance I had to take. If he wasn't willing to prove to me that he would do anything for me, not abandon me or hurt me, he had to prove it to me. If he couldn't, if I was a distraction or anything like that, I'd let him go. After all, when you love someone enough, sometimes setting him or her free was the hardest, but the best thing you could do for them.


	69. 69: Good morning deductions

Chapter sixty nine

Good morning deductions

I awoke to find myself alone again. For a moment, I thought it was all a dream, then I saw I was wearing Sherlock's shirt. I stood up and walked over towards the bathroom, finding my formal dress gone, and my favorite green dress folded in its place. I climbed into my dress, combed my fingers through my hair before exiting the bathroom. Sherlock and Linda were still sound asleep in their cribs so I exited the bedroom shutting the door quietly behind me.

"All very interesting Sherlock," I jumped at the sound of Mycroft's voice, he sounded completely bored, as always. "but the terror alert has been raised to critical."

Sherlock's chair creaked and I could just imagine him, leaning back in his chair without blinking an eye. "Boring. Your move." I fought back a snicker, both of them were playing 'Operation' together. Though which one was winning, I couldn't tell. Some of the furniture had been moved in., chairs and a few tables.

"We have solid information that a terror attack is coming.

"Solid information that a secret terrorist organization is planning an attack. That's not secret. Terrorists do that. It's their version of golf!"

I fought back a smirk at that remark. "An agent gave his life to tell us that."

Sherlock said smugly. "Hmm, perhaps he shouldn't have done, he's obviously just trying to show off."

"None of these 'markers' of yours is behaving in any way suspiciously?" another clatter. "Your move."

"No Mycroft, but you have to trust me. I'll find the answer. It'll be in an odd phrase in an online blog or an unexpected trip to the countryside or a misplace lonely hearts add. Your move."

"I've given the prime minister my personal assurance that you're on the case."

"I'm on case?" Sherlock said. "We're both on the case. Look at us right now."

The buzzer went off and Mycroft was peeved. "Oh bugger."

"Whoopsie!" Sherlock said cheerfully. "Can't handle a broken heart. How very telling." Sherlock leaned back in his seat, his eyes finally looking my way. He smiled at me and I smiled back.

"Don't be smart." Mycroft said.

Sherlock inhaled. "That takes me back." His voice went high, imitating a younger Mycroft. "Don't be smart Sherlock. I'm the smart one."

"I _am_ the smart one."

"It made me think I was an idiot."

"Both of us thought you were an idiot Sherlock." Mycroft said smugly settling back into his chair. "we had nothing else to go on until we met other children."

"Oh yes, that was a mistake."

"Ghastly. What were they thinking of?"

Sherlock looked up at me. "Probably something about trying to make friends."

"Oh yes." Mycroft crossed his fingers together. "friends. Of course you'd go in for that sort of thing now."

"and you don't?" Sherlock's voice was pointed. "ever?"

"if you seem slow to me Sherlock, can you imagine what real people are like? I'm living in a world of goldfish."

"Yes," Sherlock said bringing his hands up together. "but I've been away for two years."

"So?"

"oh I don't know." Sherlock's eyes darted towards me. I caught the dark glint in his eyes and I knew what was coming. "I thought perhaps you might have found yourself a…goldfish."

"Change the subject." Mycroft ordered as he got up out of his seat. "Now!"

"In a moment," he said standing up and walking towards Mycroft. "I hear you tried to take _my _goldfish." Mycroft's eyes betrayed his nervousness. He turned and looked at me as I walked towards the men, ready to break up a fight, if it was coming. Sherlock advanced towards him. "You took my goldfish, out of my bowl, shook her up and tried to put her in your bowl."

"Well, judging by the fact that she actually let you hold her and kiss her last night, she's jumped back into your bowl without any effects."

"The goldfish would like to say something." I said.

"In a moment." Sherlock and Mycroft stood almost nose to nose. "I know everything, how you annulled my marriage."

"After all you were 'dead' and she was a widow. Those papers had to be taken care of."

"Yes, but you proposing to my wife, when you knew I was still alive. If you ever try anything like that again, I will personally beat you to an unrecognizable, bloody pulp."

Mycroft smirked. "All right."

"No, it's not all right," Sherlock was now threatening him. "if you don't recognize a threat when you hear it, then you're more dense than you imagine. And trust me, mess with what is mine again, and you will be sorry. Do I make myself clear?"

Mycroft nodded. "Very."

"Can, we put this on hold for later?" I asked, attempting to fight the urge to smile at Sherlock's threat. "You two are on a case. Remember?"

"Right." Sherlock took my hand and tugged me towards his chair. "Rest assured Mycroft, whatever this underground network of yours is up to the secret will reside in the exceedingly insignificant or bizarre." Sherlock sat down, tugging me into his lap. I smile as he wraps his arms around my waist. He drums his fingers impatiently on my hip before looking up at me. "Good morning."

"Good morning."

Sherlock leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. I leaned into the kiss, smiling against him, relishing the magic of his kiss that I'd missed for so long. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine. "I missed this too."

I smiled. "As did I."

Sherlock leaned forward and began placing gentle kisses on my neck. I trembled and wrapped my arms around him. "Yoo-hoo." Mrs. Hudson called as she came into the room with a breakfast tray. I sat up and Sherlock let out a groan.

"Speaking of which."

"Shut of Mycroft." I said.

"I can't believe it." Mrs. Hudson gushed happily. "I just can't believe it. Him, sitting in his chair again."

I nodded. "I can barely believe it myself."

"Believe me," he murmured. "you'll believe it."

"Oh, and you sitting his lap Tammy. You two always made such a lovely couple. Sherlock, he tried so hard not to show how crazy he was about you. But he's not holding anything back now." I blushed as he ran his hand down my back. She tilted her head to the side. "But what about that Charles fellow?"

Sherlock's hands stilled and I shifted uncomfortably. "He broke up with me last night, actually. He wanted to give Sherlock an even chance."

He snorted. "Of course you're going to choose me."

"Don't bet on it." I whispered. "We still have more talking to do."

He shrugged. "It's obvious you're going to pick me. Last night was a very good indicator."

"Shut up."

He nodded and turned to Mrs. Hudson as she addressed Mycroft. "Isn't it wonderful Mr. Holmes?"

"I can barely contain myself."

"oh, he really can you know."

"He's secretly pleased to see you underneath all that."

"Sorry, which of us?"

"Both of you."

"Let's play something different!" Sherlock said clapping his hands together. He stands up, nudging me to the side and I perch on the armrest.

"Why are we playing games?" Mycroft asked.

"Well, London's terror alert has been raised to critical, I'm just passing the time." Sherlock stood up. "Let's do deductions." He picks up a ridiculous, bobble hat with earflaps and dangly pom poms. "Client left this while I was out. What do you reckon?"

He tosses it to Mycroft, who catches it. "I'm busy."

"Oh, go on. It's been an age."

Mycroft sniffs the hat. "I always win."

Sherlock smirks. "Which is why you can't resist."

I lean forward as I watch brother vs. brother take off in their game of deduction. "I find nothing irresistible in the hat of a well-traveled anxious sentimental unfit creature of habit with appalling halitosis." He looks up and notices Sherlock's grin. "Damn."

"Mind the language, Tammy hates it." He catches the hat, which Mycroft tosses back at him. "Isolated, too, don't you think?"

"Why would he be isolated?"

"He?"

"Obviously."

"Why?" Sherlock asked. "Size of the hat?"

"Don't be silly. Some women have large heads too." Sherlock glowers at Mycroft's insult to his intelligence. "No. He's recently had his haircut. You can see the little hairs adhering to the perspiration stains on the inside."

Sherlock pouts. "Some women have short hair, too."

"Balance of probability."

"Not that you've ever spoken to a woman with short hair or, you know, a woman."

Mycroft glowers at him. "Stains show he's out of condition, and he's sentimental because the hat has been repaired three, four-

Sherlock catches onto to Mycroft's mistake. "Five times." He throws the hat back to Mycroft. "Very neatly. The cost of the repairs exceeds the cost of the hat, so he's mawkishly attached to it, but it's more than that. One, perhaps two, patches would indicate sentimentality, but five? Five's excessive behavior. Obsessive compulsive."

"Hardly. Your client left it behind. What sort of an obsessive compulsive would do that?" He throws the hat back to Sherlock. "The earlier patches are extensively sun-bleached, so he's worn it abroad, in Peru."

"Peru?"

"This is a chullo, the classic headgear of the Andes. It's made of alpaca."

Sherlock smirks. "No."

"No?"

"Icelandic sheep wool. Similar, but very distinctive if you know what you're looking for. I've written a blog on the varying tensile strengths of different natural fibers."

"I'm sure there's a crying need for that." Mrs. Hudson comments as she comes into the room with a teapot.

Sherlock pauses for a moment, then turns back to Mycroft. "You said he was anxious."

Mycroft nods. "The bobble on the left side has been badly chewed, which shows he's a man of a nervous disposition but-

Sherlock talks over him. "But also a creature of habit because he hasn't chewed the bobble on the right."

"Precisely."

Sherlock sniffs the hat. "Brief sniff of the offending bobble tells us everything we need to know about the state of his breath. Brilliant!"

"Elementary."

"But you've missed his isolation."

"I don't see it."

"Plain as day."

"Where?"

"There for all to see."

"Tell me."

I frown as I watch the two men, a mixture of amusement and frustration in me. I didn't see it either and I wished Sherlock would just spit it out! "Plain as the nose on your

"_Tell_ me." Mycroft demands, unable to stand it any longer.

Sherlock turns back to him. "Well, anybody who wears a hat as stupid as this isn't in the habit of hanging around other people, is he?"

"Not at all." Mycroft frowned. "Maybe he just doesn't mind being different. He doesn't necessarily have to be isolated."

"Exactly."

"Mycroft blinks several times. "I'm sorry?"

Sherlock looks at him. "He's different, so what? Why would he mind? You're quite right." He puts the ridiculous looking hat on top of his head, then looks Mycroft. I can't help but laugh at the funny picture he made. "Why would anyone mind?"

Mycroft appears to refrain from laughing, but manages to speak somewhat soberly. "I'm not lonely, Sherlock."

Sherlock steps towards him and asks quietly. "How would you know?"

A wail from the room caused me to get up. "They're awake. I need to go."

* * *

It was Linda; she was standing up in her crib, probably curious about her new surroundings. Sherlock was all ready desperate to enjoy every nook and cranny, so I set him down while I dressed Linda. Both of them had reached that stage in their life where they wanted to get dressed on the own. Sherlock tried, but he always got something wrong. I'd just finished dressing them both and was getting ready to go out when my phone rang.

A glance at the caller ID told me it was john. "John!" I said. "Hello. How are you doing?"

_I'm fine. Tammy….are you aware that_

"Sherlock's alive? Yes. I know, john."

_How are you doing? Is Charles taking this all right?_

I exhaled. "You won't believe this john. But, Charles and I broke up last night."

_God, I'm sorry._

"He ended it."

_Where are you now? You need anything?_

I sighed. "John…I'm actually…back with Sherlock."

_WHAT!?_

"Look, john, I know you're upset."

I'm surprised you're taking this so calmly! Good god Tammy! He abandoned you and your children, and after one night you're back together again!

"We aren't really back together!" I said. "I'm not even sure what we are. Mycroft had our marriage dissolved."

Well, that's one smart thing he did then!

"John," I asked quietly. "please, try to understand. I know it's hard for you, but it's hard for me too. He was my husband, he's the father of my children and he also happens to be the man that holds my heart."

He doesn't deserve it Tammy. He doesn't deserve your love or loyalty.

I nodded. "I disagree john. But, on the day your medical profession has come up with a drug that stops someone from falling in love, that's the day I'll stop loving him. I tried, you know I did."

And you can't just try harder? What about Charles?

"He was never enough john. He tried, as did I. We are both sedate people, but there's this….incredible burning, passion and other side of me that was always left wanting when we were together. Only Sherlock could fulfill it. I'm sorry john, but, this is where my heart lies. You know that."

_So, you're actually going to go back to the way things were? Him ignoring your feelings, and what if he has an urge to just take off again?_

"I know why he did john, and I accept his reason, but not his excuses for not telling me. Please, it's hard enough as it is. I'm still not sure what's going to happen between us yet. We haven't talked about what I'm going to do yet. I don't know if we're going to get married again or not. Then there's the children to consider and all of these have got to be put on hold for a while because there is going to be a terrorist attack on London and he's got to help out." I added gently. "He needs your help john."

_Sorry Tammy. I can't do that. And he doesn't need anyone's help._

"Everyone needs help john." I say quietly. "Even Sherlock."

* * *

**This chapter is for Tla6Mathias. Thank you so much for those lovely reviews and your kind words. I hope you're not to tired after staying up past 3:00 in the morning to read my story! I made it extra long for you. **


	70. 70: Fish and chips

Chapter seventy

Fish and chips

Sherlock glowered as the children wandered around the flat exploring. "Are you sure it's normal that they fall down at this stage?"

"Yes, it is Sherlock." I picked up the plates and moved towards the sink. A clatter made me turn to see Sherlock was actually picking up the remaining dishes. I frowned as he approached me. "What are you doing?"

"I thought you could use a hand."

"Thank you."

I plunged my hands into the warm, soapy water and began washing them. I felt Sherlock's hands go around my waist and I froze. He leaned forward and nuzzled my neck. My heart fluttered in my chest, and I had to get out of this. He was luring me under his spell again, and I didn't even know where we stood.

I slammed the dish down. "Just stop it!" I stepped away, spun around and faced Sherlock, who looked confused. "You've been gone for two years Sherlock. Do you really expect me to just let everything go back to normal?"

He frowned at me. "I said I was sorry."

"Sorry doesn't always cover everything." I pointed out. "Do you know, how much a Hell...you made my life?"

"I could try, but I know I'd be far off."

"You...were haunting me." I said. "I-I'd dream that you were with me." He stepped towards me. "I'd see you and you weren't there. Once, I'd dreamed that," I blushed to confess it, so I studied the floor. "that, you made love to me once, before leaving me again."

"I did."

I stilled and looked at him. "What? What are you saying?"

"I asked Adler to drug you so I could have you one more time." 'Have you,' another thing about Sherlock I loved, the Victorian terminology for making love. "And it was me you'd seen in the graveyard."

I stared at him in shock. "Why? Why did you do that?"

"I wasn't sure if you were pregnant or not, and I wanted to attempt to give you a baby before I left. I wasn't sure how long it would be before I'd ever see you again. Not to mention, I wasn't sure if it was even successful in impregnating you. You weren't showing any signs when I left." His eyes narrowed. "Nothing happened with Adler, I just called in her IOU and she was happy to help."

"You...you weren't a dream then?"

He stepped towards me. "Do you remember what I said to you?"

I nodded and whispered. "Yes...I remember."

He cupped my face in his hands, his long fingers tangling themselves in my hair. "Do you still love me?" I bit my lip. "Please say you do. I never stopped. I couldn't go on living if I thought that you hated me."

Tears flowed down my cheeks as I nodded. "Damn you Sherlock," his eyes widened in surprise. "I wish I didn't still love you." I really shouldn't be admitting things like this to him so soon. But lying wasn't one of my strengths and I'm afraid my heart just couldn't stop beating for him. I cried as Sherlock pulled me close to him. "I'm a terrible, wicked woman."

"Oh shut up Tammy." He said. "Don't say things like that."

"I can't believe this." I snapped at him. "And don't you ever tell me to shut up again! You do that too often!"

"I'll try, but when you start degrading yourself, I will tell you to shut up."

"What else do you call a woman who breaks a wonderful man's heart like Charles?"

He groaned. "Will you please shut up about Charles? I'm here with you, not him!"

Sherlock kissed me deeply and I groaned as I drowned in his kiss. But when Sherlock's hands wandered down to my hips and I pushed his hands away. "But I won't all you Sherlock, to take liberties with me."

He tilted his head to the side. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"If you want me Sherlock," I stated calmly. "you're going to have to win me back."

"What!" He looked outraged. "Why should I do that?"

I pulled away from him and walked over to the other side of the counter, where I was out of his reach. "Because, I am not going to make it that easy for you."

"Oh for God's sake, Tammy. I had no choice!"

"And you couldn't have texted me once in a while to say you were all right? I had your phone! You couldn't have had Mycroft tell me what was going on!?"

"I didn't want to take any chances. And I really didn't want Mycroft telling you anything."

"Right. And I'm not taking any chances that you want me for sex, as you told me before jumping!"

"I didn't mean it Tammy."

"Then prove it to me!" I snapped at him. "When you get my guard down, don't initiate making love to me!" Then, inspiration hit me. "In fact, you will treat me with utmost respect, like I demanded when we were engaged."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "Tammy."

"I am not finished yet! You, are going to go sleep on the couch!" Sherlock's face was priceless. "You are only allowed to hold my hand, kiss my mouth or cheek and you _will_ behave! Then you will propose-

"I all ready did all that!"

"You're going to propose again!"

"Are you serious?!"

"And, if you'd like to, we will get remarried! Mycroft had our marriage license and every other document declared invalid to make it look real! So you can't get out of that!"

Sherlock exhaled. "For God's sake Tammy, that's a lot of trouble when we're going to get married again."

"Are we?" I asked solemnly.

He frowned. "Well, obviously we are."

"You tell me Sherlock." I said. "I'm a fool, I'm an idiot, and I still happen to be so very, deeply in love with you. But I am not going to open myself up to a life of torture. If you want me, then you will prove it to me, as I asked. When we courted, you reassured me that you loved me, but you never proved it to me. If you can't, then, please, I beg you, let us part friends." Sherlock straightened and he crossed his arms, studying me intently. "You will stop following me, I will get rid of everything I have connected with you, you will sign over your parental rights to me and I will make a new life for myself. You can go back to living your own life, you don't have to worry about me, the children and you can go on and be your typical, smart arse, free self. All things considered, after all I've gone through these two years, I'm not asking too much."

"Do you want to marry someone else?"

"No, I don't. I'm giving you a chance here Sherlock. A chance to back out."

"Or a chance for yourself?" He asked. "If you loved me-

"I do love you. But if the children and I are going to be a distraction to your work and you can't include us in your life, no matter how dangerous it is, then maybe it would be best to cut you free. I do love you, and it will kill me to do this again, but I've gotten used to walking around in this haze and I think, I could do it again….if I had to."

Sherlock was silent for a long time, then he spoke. "I will do as you ask."

"And...which option is that?"

Sherlock stepped towards me, took my hand and kissed my ring finger. "I'll court you again." I stared at him. I hadn't expected him to make up his mind that quick around me. "But, may I make three requests?" I nodded hesitantly. "One, you don't bite your lip around me."

I smiled against my will. "I'll try."

"If you do, I can't be responsible for my actions." I nod my head and blush. "Tomorrow, you will move back into Baker Street."

I nodded. "Ok."

"Three...you will consider letting us continue sharing the bed." I hesitate. "It's been two years Tammy. if I'm not going to be allowed to do anything that a husband should be allowed to do to his wife, at least allow me the nights of feeling you close to me and one morning with you in my arms."

I shouldn't give into him, but it had been two years and I wanted to feel him beside me as well. I nodded. "All right. But, if you slip up once, you're out on the couch."

* * *

The day was very busy for me. The rooms had to be dusted, vacuumed and everything put back into place. Sherlock asked Molly to fill in for john for the day and she agreed to do it. He had three cases today.

One involved a Mr. Harcourt and all of his money had been emptied out a bank account. But Sherlock deduced that the man had emptied money because he was having an affair. The signs that proved it to him were his weight loss, hair dye, and the Botox injections.

The second involved a girl's stepfather posing as her online boyfriend. He then broke off the relationship, broke her heart so she'd swear off relationships, stay at home and he collects from her wage coming in. Sherlock was unusual in that case. He was kind and sympathetic towards her. Then, he turned over a new leaf and completely cursed out the father. Sherlock jr. used one of his father's words and both Sherlock's were thoroughly and completely reprimanded.

the third mystery, Greg dubbed 'the skeleton mystery.' Evidently, in a basement there was a wooden desk and seated behind the desk was a skeleton dressed in a suit. And the corpse was holding a syringe in its skeletal hand.

I had all the furniture replace and it was just beginning to get dark when my phone rang. I glanced at it, and it was Sherlock calling. I frowned as I answered cautiously. "Hello?"

_Tammy? I was wondering if you'd fancy some chips?_

"What?" I asked.

_I know a fantastic fish shop just off the Marylebone Road. The owner always gives me extra portions._

I giggled lightly. "Did you get him off a murder charge?"

_No, I helped him put up some shelves. I can imagine that you're quite tired, so how about it?_

"Ok. Thank you, that sounds lovely."

_How are the kids?_

"Fine. They've been coloring up a storm." I turned around in time to see Sherlock take a red crayon to his father's desk. "Sherlock! I scolded. "Don't do that!"

_don't do what? I'm nowhere near you!_

"Not you Sherlock, your son, Sherlock." I took the crayon and shook my head. "No. don't do that."

_Again, don't do what?_

"Sherlock just colored a bloodstain on your desk."

Sherlock laughed. _I see. Well, I'll be home soon._

"All right. Goodbye."

_Bye. I won't forget the extra salt on your chips either. _He hangs up on me before I can say something else.

40 minutes later, all four of us were eating our fish and chips in silence. Sherlock sat beside me, studying me from the corner of his eye. "You really have things looking back to normal." He said. "And you'll soon have the flat above open."

I frowned. "Mrs. Hudson has leased it."

"Yes, but the man had an illegal stash of drugs."

"So you threatened to turn him in unless he vacated, correct?" He nodded. "You devil." I licked the salt off the pad of my thumb and looked up to see Sherlock studying me. "What?"

"Nothing." He said quietly. "Do you know that you bite your finger before licking it?"

I flushed. "I-I guess so."

He leaned forward and took my hand. "I'm making you nervous again, aren't I?" I nodded and he smiled. "In case you don't know…you look positively adorable." The doorbell buzzed and Sherlock frowned. "What is it?"

He stood up and walked towards the door. It was then that I heard Mary's voice filter up the stairs. "Sorry, I-I think someone's got John, John Watson."

I stand up and follow Sherlock towards the landing. "Mary? What's wrong?"

Mary pulls her phone from her pocket and shows it to Sherlock. "Someone sent me this. At first I thought it was just a Bible thing, you know, spam, but it's not. It's a skip-code." She shows him the message.

"What's a skip code?" I ask, unable to see the screen.

"First word, then every third." Sherlock said. "Save ... John ... Watson."I gasp quietly and I watch as Sherlock's expression changes. His face becomes gravely concerned and his tone changes to urgent. "Now!" He drops his chips on the ground and he races down the stairs with Mary and I following.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"St James the Less." He says. "It's a church. Twenty minutes by car."

"Mrs. Hudson!" I call. "John's in trouble, could you please watch the children?"

"Yes dear! Be careful!"

I run outside to find Sherlock pacing in the middle of the road. "It's too slow. It's too slow." He is so concentrated on the task at hand that he's oblivious to the approach of a car.

"Sherlock!" I call.

He ignores me and the car swerves around him and the driver blares his horn. Mary is frantic. "Sherlock, what are we waiting for?"

"This." He steps directly into the path of the approaching motorcycle and holds up his hand. The driver slams on the brakes and the bike skids to a halt. Sherlock abruptly explains that he needs their motorcycle because of a life and death situation. I see a taxi and I hail it. Sherlock shouts at me. "You stay at home Tammy!"

"John's in trouble!"

"It's going to be dangerous!" He shouts as he pulls the helmet on his head. "You need to stay home and watch the kids!"

"Sherlock!"

He grabs me by the shoulder, orders the taxi away and shakes me. "Tammy, promise me that you will be home waiting for me. Promise me!"

Instantly, my fight leaves me. "I promise." Sherlock kisses me quickly before vaulting onto the bike and zooming down the street with Mary behind him. I covered my mouth and hurried back into the house. My phone went off and I answered it. "Yes?"

_Tammy? _It was Charles. _Is everything all right?_

"I'm fine…it's John. Something's happened to him. He's in danger."

_I'll be right there. I promise._

He hung up on me and my phone went off again in my hand. I answered it and shrieked. "What!?"

_Sorry. _It was Molly. _I'm sorry._

"Molly, no I'm sorry. John's in trouble, Sherlock's gone after him and I'm worried. I'm so, so sorry."

_Oh, I-I understand. Look, I'm just around the corner. Mind if I come by?_

"Please do, I should be ever so grateful for the company."


	71. 71: The game is on!

Chapter seventy-one

The game is back on!

"Tammy," Molly says gently. "please, sit down. You're going to wear yourself out."

"I can't!" I snap at her. "What is he doing!? It's been an hour and he hasn't called or texted me once! Not once!" I touch my phone to wake it up and it dies. I groan and shake the blasted phone. "And now my phone dies!"

"Calm down," Charles says. "why don't we discuss the furniture of yours that needs to come back."

"Can you just hold onto it for a day?" I asked as I pointed to the flat above. "This guy is moving out again, because he's doing illegal drugs that no one knows about." Molly and Charles jump in surprise. "So, I'm getting it back any day now."

"Have you reported him?" Charles asked.

"No. Feel free if you'd like to do so!"

Charles glances down at Molly's hand. "I guess I should offer my congratulations."

I frown and it's then that I notice the diamond ring on her hand. A shame. Molly and Charles, they did make a lovely couple and it would have been a perfectly ideal situation for all involved. They were natural together, Charles had won her over with his manners and cultured sense of humor. He actually had gotten her to laugh a few times!

"How'd you meet," I asked. "at work?"

"He's not from work." She says with a quiet laugh. "We met through friends, the old-fashioned way. He's nice. We….he's got a dog ... we go to the pub on weekends and he... I've met his mum and dad and his friends and all his family." She blushes and glances down at her hands. And I've no idea why I'm telling you this."

"To try and distract me and it _almost _worked. Ohh, what is taking so long?" The door below opened and I flew towards the landing, I peered over the rail as Sherlock came trotting up the stairs. "Oh, thank God!" I came down the stairs and launched myself into his open arms. He smelled of fire and burnt wood and I noticed his hair was a little singed. "Are you all right?" I asked as I pulled back to examine him. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." He reassured me. "John is too. Mary's taking him to the hospital. He's got a cut on his forehead, but that is all."

"Why do you smell like you were in a burning building?"

He wrapped his arm around my waist and continued up the stairs. "Someone drugged John and buried him under all the kindling of a bonfire. I pulled him out. We're both fine, Mary's with him, if you want to text her."

"My phones dead." I frowned at him. "Why didn't you text me?"

He shrugged. "In the madness we grabbed the wrong phones and I've no clue what your passcode is on it."

I smirked. "You honestly don't know?"

He shrugged. "No, I don't."

I smile. "Think of David Cassidy and one of his songs, and that's the passcode."

"Why do all of your passwords have to do with songs?" He makes a face. "Your last one was Glen Miller's Pen6500!"

"And since I know my music, you're going to have to figure out my passcode."

"Or," he said catching a hold of my arm and pulling me into his chest. "I could persuade you to tell me."

"No you couldn't." he leaned forward and kissed my pulse point on my neck. I smile, shiver and wrap my arms around his neck. "Not working so well." I tease him quietly. "Was a time when you could melt me into butter but, now," I was going to pay for those words. Sherlock's hands slid down to my hips, he lifted me up and thumped me into the wall. "that might work."

I grabbed onto his shoulders as he nudged my legs around his waist. I gasped as his hand slowly crept up my thigh and I twitched against him. He smirked as my eyes widened as I tried hard not to notice his desire for me. He then thrust hard against me and I let out a yelp. He smirked darkly. "Must be doing something right."

"Sherlock," I croaked as I let my legs fall from his waist. "Molly and," Sherlock cut me off with a kiss and I groaned. The door to our flat opened and I pushed at him and shook my head. "Knock it off Sherlock. We're supposed to be taking it easy, remember?"

He laughs. "You started it."

"I did not!"

"You said it wasn't working, so I had to up my game."

"Idiot."

He snorts and we turn to see Charles in the doorway. He definitely looked uncomfortable. "Sorry." He said. "We heard a sound."

Sherlock frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"He _and _Molly were keeping me company while you were saving John's neck." I stepped away from him. "Anyone up for a game of Chinese checkers?" Sherlock snorted. "And Sherlock will take it easy on everyone."

"Fine." He reached for my MP3 player and speaker and began browsing through it while we set up the game board. Linda tripped and Sherlock caught her. "Easy princess."

She made a face and moved towards Charles. My heart rate escalated as she grabbed onto his leg and patted him. "Daddy."

I looked at Sherlock. He was hurt, of course, but he hid it well. Charles picked Linda up, walked over to Sherlock, and placed her in his lap. Linda let out a small wail and Sherlock made a face. "Maybe you should hold her."

"Nope." I said as I talked soothingly to her. "I know, I know it's confusing baby, but this is your daddy. It's always been." I turned to Charles. "I'm so sorry."

He shrugged it off easily. "It's ok."

Linda pushed off of Sherlock's lap and moved towards the bedroom. I exhaled. "She's a little young to have her heart broken."

"Great practice for when she gets older." Sherlock comments as he turns my music on. He takes my legs, swings them into his lap and rubs my knee. I frown at him, then my mouth drops open as Billy Currington's rough, country voice fills the room with 'must be doing something right', I shake my head at Sherlock. He smirks. "Your move."

I groan and try to concentrate on the game. But from the looks he was giving me, it was going to be a long night.

* * *

_The following afternoon,_

* * *

"Which wasn't the way I'd put it at all. Silly woman. Anyway, it was then that I first noticed it was missing. I said, "Have you checked down the back of the sofa?" I smile as Sherlock makes a face, his patience running thin. Mrs. Holmes looks towards Mr. Holmes. "He's always losing things down the back of the sofa, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid so."

Sherlock glares at me from his seat as his mother continues talking. I blew him a kiss before concentrating on where Sherlock and Linda were trying to do a puzzle. They both got mad at me whenever I touched a piece, so I concentrated on making sure that they didn't chew on the pieces. Mrs. Holmes was so excited about their trip to London that she'd chatted incessantly for the last hour.

"Keys, small change, sweeties, especially his glasses. I said, "Why don't you get a chain, wear 'em round your neck?" And he says, "What like Larry Grayson?"

Sherlock gets up, buttons his jacket and walks towards them. "So did you find it eventually, your lottery ticket?" He steps onto the coffee table and then onto the sofa between his parents. Sherlock starts idly flicking through the paperwork stuck to the wall. One of these days, that table is going to snap in two under his weight. Tables weren't made to hold people, no matter how light they are!

"Well, yes, thank goodness. We caught the coach on time after all. We managed to see St Paul's, the Tower, but they weren't letting anyone in to Parliament." Sherlock frowns down at her. "Some big debate going on."

The front door opens and John walks in. Sherlock turns and stares at John in surprise. "John!"

"Sorry, you're busy."

Sherlock steps off the sofa and pulls his mother to her feet. "No, no, no, they were just leaving."

"Oh, were we?" Mrs. Holmes asks.

"Yes." Sherlock says pointedly. "Go. Bye."

"Yeah, well, we're here 'til Saturday, remember."

Yes, great, wonderful. Just get out." He immediately begins to herd his parents out the door.

"Well, give us a ring."

"Very nice, yes, good, get out." As he tries to close the door, Mrs. Holmes sticks her shoe into the doorway to stop him from shutting the door. Sherlock glowers down at her foot.

"I can't tell you how glad we are, Sherlock. All that time people thinking the worst of you."

Sherlock glances back at John, as I approach him. "Hello John."

He shakes my hand. "Hi."

"Do want anything? Some water? Cup of tea?" I see his wound, which is still bleeding lightly. "Aspirin?"

"No thanks. I'm fine."

We're just so pleased it's all over.

Sherlock tries to slam the door on Mrs. Holmes foot, but she refuses to budge. "Ring up more often, won't you?" Mr. Holmes asks. "She worries."

I approach Sherlock from behind as Mrs. Holmes asks. "Promise?"

I swat Sherlock on the behind; he lets out a surprised shout and spins around and looks down at me. "Did you just-

"He promises." I said. "In fact, I'll make sure he calls you two every other weekend."

"What?" He whines.

"And he promises." I turned and shot him a look. "Right?"

He glowers at me and nods. "Promise." Mrs. Holmes reaches up to stroke his cheek. Sherlock glowers. "Oh, for God's sake!" He shoves the door closed and lets out a deep sigh before turning to John. "Sorry about that. Just my parents in town for a few days."

"No it's fine."

"You're so rude." I say as I turn back to where the children are playing. "You really are a bad son at times."

"Mycroft promised to take them to a matinee of "Les Mis". Tried to talk me into doing it."

"And Tammy wasn't interested?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No, she's still in love with that Ramin Karimloo."

"You're just jealous." I say.

"I don't know what she sees in him, that man's ancient now." John and Sherlock make eye contact for a second, then John looks down. Sherlock finds the words to speak first. "See you've shaved it off, then."

"Yeah." John nods. "Wasn't working for me."

"I'm glad."

"What, you didn't like it?"

Sherlock smiles. "No, I prefer my doctors clean-shaven."

"It's not a sentence you hear every day!" John moves towards his old chair and sits down in it, grunting a little. He's probably sore from last night. The atmosphere is a little awkward between them, but one can sense that it's not going to last long.

"How are you feeling?"

"Yeah, not bad, a bit smoked."

"Right."

John looks at him seriously. "Last night, who did that?" Linda walks over and pats John's leg. He picks her up and talks over her head to Sherlock. "And why did they target me?"

"I don't know."

"Is it someone trying to get to you through me?" John asks. "Is it something to do with this terrorist thing you talked about?"

"I don't know. I can't see the pattern. It's too nebulous." He walks towards his 'Wall of Informative Rats' as I've dubbed it. "Why would an agent give his life to tell us something incredibly insignificant? That's what's strange."

John asks. "Give his life?"

"According to Mycroft. There's an underground network planning an attack on London, that's all we know." he gestures to the paperwork on the wall. "These are my rats, John."

"Rats?"

My markers, agents, lowlives, people who might find themselves arrested or their diplomatic immunity suddenly rescinded. If one of them starts acting suspiciously, we know something's up. Five of them are behaving perfectly normally, but the sixth-

John points at one of the photos "I know him, don't I?"

"Lord Moran, peer of the realm, Minister for Overseas Development. Pillar of the establishment."

"Yes!"

"He's been working for North Korea since 1996."

"What?"

"He's the Big Rat, rat #1. And he's just done something very suspicious indeed."

John sets Linda aside and he approaches Sherlock. I smile as I watch the two men. The game is on and the world had better look out for Watson and Holmes are together again!


	72. 72: The million dollar decision

Chapter seventy-two

The million dollar decision

Later, Sherlock is showing the footage of the mysterious train disappearance to John. "Yeah, that's ... odd." John asks. "There's nowhere he could have got off?"

"Not according to the maps. There's something – something, something I'm missing, something staring me in the face."

His phone beeps and he takes it out of his pocket. I frown. "Did all the carriages arrive?" I ask. "I remember watching this movie once where someone disconnected a train carriage and it had dynamite in it. Don't ask me the title, it was an old western and after awhile they all look the same."

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!" Sherlock shouts happily. "I've been an idiot, a blind idiot!"

"What?" John asks.

Sherlock beings pacing across the room, excitedly. "Oh, that's good. That could be brilliant." He kisses me on the forehead. "You're on your best when you don't know too many details. I think I'll keep you around."

"Flattering. Now what are you on about?"

"Mycroft's intelligence, it's not nebulous at all. It's specific, incredibly specific."

John asks. "What do you mean?"

"Not an underground network, John. It's an _underground_ network."

"Right," John says. "what?

"Sometimes a deception is so audacious, so outrageous that you can't see it even when it's staring you in the face." He leans over to replay the footage. "Look, seven carriages leave Westminster ... but only six carriages arrive at St James's Park." He claps me on the shoulder. "Very impressive Riddler."

My heart jumps at my pet name, but I focus on the task at hand. "But that's, it's impossible." John says.

"As Tammy said, Moran didn't disappear the entire Tube compartment did. The driver must have diverted the train and then detached the last carriage."

"Detached it where?" John asked. "You said there was nothing between those stations."

"Not on the maps, but once you eliminate all the other factors, the only thing remaining must be the truth." He points at the screen. "That carriage vanished, so it must be somewhere."

"But why, though? Why detach it in the first place?"

Sherlock begins pacing again. "It vanishes between St James's Park and Westminster. Lord Moran vanishes. You're kidnapped and nearly burned to death at a fireworks park." Sherlock stops shortly, obviously figuring it out. "What's the date, John, today's date?"

He frowns. "November the," his face pales a little. "my God."

Sherlock turns to the wall. "Lord Moran, he's a peer of the realm. Normally he'd sit in the House. Tonight there's an all-night sitting to vote on the new anti-terrorism Bill." He smiles. "But he won't be there. Not tonight." He turns to look at John. "Not the fifth of November."

"Remember," John says quietly. "remember."

"Gunpowder, treason and plot."

"I don't understand." I ask. "Could someone translate?"

"Naturally, you're an American." Sherlock says abruptly. "Sorry. Guy Fawkes was an English soldier and a member of a group of Roman Catholic conspirators who attempted to carry out a tremendous assination attempt. His victims would have been James VI of Scotland and the members of both houses of the Parliament of England with a huge explosion, which was prevented by his arrest on 5 November 1605. Now, do try to keep up with us!"

* * *

Half an hour later, the flat is filled with books, maps and papers. Sherlock is skypeing with someone on his laptop. The man, obviously the one with that ridiculous ear hat, consults with them while they frantically search through mess on the table.

I come in, sit down, open a book and read it quietly as the children are taking a nap. "There's nothing down there, Mr. Holmes, I told you." Mr. Howard says. "No sidings, no ghost stations."

Sherlock turns the laptop so that John can see the screen. "There has to be. Check again."

John is looking through a book. "Look, this whole area is a big mess of old and new stuff. Charing Cross is made up of bits of older stations like Trafalgar Square, Strand-

Sherlock shakes his head. "No, it's none of those. We've accounted for those." He looks closer at an older map. "St Margaret's Street, Bridge Street, Sumatra Road, Parliament Street-

"Hang on, hang on. Sumatra Road. You mentioned Sumatra Road, Mr. Holmes." Howard says. "There is something. I knew it rang a bell." I stand up and walk over to where they're working. "Where is it?" Howard comes back into view. "There was a station down there."

"Well, why isn't it on the maps?"

"Cause it was closed before it ever opened."

"What?"

Howard holds up a book to the camera. "They built the platforms, even the staircases, but it all got tied up in legal disputes, so they never built the station on the surface."

Sherlock straightens up slowly. "It's right underneath the Palace of Westminster."

"And so what's down there?" John asks. "A bomb?"

Sherlock walks away and John hurries after him. I grab my coat and follow them down the steps. Mrs. Hudson is at the door. "Oh, all three of you popping out?" Sherlock realizes that I'm behind them and glowers at me. "Shall I watch the twins?"

I nod. "If you don't mind, they're taking their nap and we should be back soon." Sherlock opens his mouth and I cut him off. "Shut up Sherlock."

And for once, he actually does what I ask him!

* * *

Minutes later we're descending the stairs that will lead us down into Westminster station. "So it's a bomb, then?" John asks. "A Tube carriage is carrying a bomb?"

Sherlock nods abruptly. "Must be."

"Right." John takes his phone from his pocket.

Sherlock frowns. "What are you doing?"

"Calling the police."

"What? No!"

"Sherlock, this isn't a game. They need to evacuate Parliament."

Sherlock shrugs. "They'll get in the way. They always do. This is cleaner, more efficient."

Stopping at a locked entrance, he reaches into his coat, takes out a crowbar and breaks the gate open. I groan as John points out. "And illegal."

"A bit."

The gate opens and we go inside. Sherlock pulls out two flashlights and start to walk into the tunnels. John checks his phone, which reads, no service. A glance at my phone shows that I don't have service either.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asks without even turning around.

John sighs in agitation. "Coming."

"Tammy?" Sherlock calls and I trot up next to him.

"What?"

He just reaches out and takes my hand, without saying a word to me. I decide to let his actions speak for themselves and I smile quietly at him. For a while, we walk through narrow tunnels and climb down steep metal ladders. Sherlock glowers at me. "Why do you women insist on wearing heels?" Sherlock asks as he helps me down the final ladder rung. "It's ridiculous!"

"Because they make me look taller, my legs sexier and _you _love it!"

He doesn't comment and a few moments later we are on the platform of Sumatra Road station. Sherlock shines his flashlight down the length of the track, but there's no sign of a train. Sherlock frowns. "I don't understand."

"Well," John comments. "that's a first!"

"There's nowhere else it could be." He turns to face the track and brings his hands up to either side of his head, concentrating and entering his mind palace. I stand patiently waiting for him to exit and a few seconds later, Sherlock's eyes snap open. "Oh!" he turns to the left and he runs towards the edge of the platform.

"What?" John asks. Sherlock ignores him as he jumps off the platform onto the tracks. "Hang on. Sherlock?"

"What?" Sherlock asks as he turns around and helps me get down.

"That's ... isn't it live?

He shrugs and continues walking down the tracks. "Perfectly safe as long as we avoid touching the rails."

"Course, yeah." John mumbles. "Avoid the rails. Great."

"This way." Sherlock says.

"You sure?" John asks.

"Sure."

"He's Sherlock Holmes," I remind him. "he's always sure!"

Sherlock doesn't say anything, just smirks a little bit. We don't have to walk far because the missing carriage is revealed to us around the bend.

"Ah. Look at that."

A few seconds later, Sherlock looks upwards and shines his flashlight upwards. " John?"

They both stop and shine their flashlights upwards, at first I don't see anything. "Demolition charges." John points out and I see them, in the air vent.

We continue towards the carriage, John begins investigating underneath while Sherlock looks along the sides. After a few moments, Sherlock opens the door and we climb inside. I stand there while they both slowly begin checking every seat, every corner, looking around the ceiling and the floor. Sherlock begins paying attention to something.

"It's empty." John says from his end of the carriage. "There's nothing."

Unfortunately, he's wrong. I step to where Sherlock has already spotted a pair of black and red wires that went down the wall and under one of the seats. "Isn't there?" he asked quietly. Sherlock begins gently lifting the cushions. His face suddenly stiffens and he looks up at John. "This is the bomb."

I stare at Sherlock and John stares at him. "What?"

Sherlock lifts the cushion all the way, revealing the explosives. "It's not carrying explosives. The whole compartment is the bomb."

I stand there while the two men work their way along the carriage, lifting up the other cushions, to reveal that each one has an identical explosive device under it. Sherlock takes his gloves off, bends over and lifts up a floor panel, revealing the 'mother bomb.'

I gasp and take a few shaky steps backwards. John takes several deep nervous breaths, then looks at Sherlock. "We need bomb disposal."

"There may not be time for that now." Something in Sherlock's tone causes my blood to run cold.

"So," John asks obviously missing Sherlock's tone of voice. "what do we do?"

After a brief pause, he speaks. "I have no idea."

My blood runs cold and John speaks sternly to Sherlock. "Well, think of something."

"Why do you think I know what to do?" Sherlock asks.

"Because you're Sherlock Holmes." John bites out. "You're as clever as it gets."

"Doesn't mean I know how to defuse a giant bomb." Sherlock points out. "What about _you_?"

"I wasn't in bomb disposal. I'm a bloody doctor."

Sherlock angrily points his flashlight at him. "And a soldier, as you keep reminding us all."

John looks down at the countdown clock. "Can't we rip the timer off, or something?"

Sherlock shakes his head. "That would set it off."

"You see?" John snaps. "You know things."

"Calm down." I bite out. "Please!" Sherlock turns away and sighs. "I know nothing about this sort of stuff, I'm sorry to say." I'm inwardly freaking out, but doing fairly well at feigning that I'm calm. "So, what do we do now?"

Suddenly, all the lights come on and a quick glance downward reveals that the countdown clock on the mother bomb has started! I jump and let out a shriek as I realize what had just happened. The bomb had been activated.

John groans and begins breathing fast. "My God!" Sherlock takes a few paces away from him, to my surprise, he actually starts panicking! John shouts at him. "Why didn't you call the police?"

"Please just-

John furiously cuts him off! "Why do you never call the police?"

"Can't we make a run for it?" I ask.

"Well, it's no use now." John points out.

I glance down at the clock. It's now at 2:15. "Will you two calm down!" I shriek. "We need to do something!"

John was angry. "So you can't switch the bomb off? You can't switch the bomb off and you didn't call the police!"

"Go, John." He points towards the driver's cab. "Go now."

"There's no point now, is there, because there's not enough time to get away; and if we don't do this ...other people will die!

I look down; it's at 1:58 now. Sherlock pushes me towards the door. "Tammy, go! Run! Save yourself!"

I head straight for the door, but the moment my foot is on the threshold and I stop. My mind is frantically taking in all my options. What am I doing? Could I outrun the bomb? John said it was too late all ready! But should I leave them? Could I run away for safety and not be haunted by my decision in the days that would follow me afterwards. But if I stayed, what would happen to our children? The other side of me countered. I didn't have the right to leave them as orphans!

But then, could I do it again? Could I honestly do it again? Could I honestly live my life, the way I lived when I thought him dead, again? Except this time, he would be dead. Could I honestly live my life without him in it? Could I handle going through this pain and grief all over again, this time for life? At the moment, my life was ticking away on a huge bomb and I didn't have long to think.

* * *

**First I am sorry for the delay! But honest, it wasn't my fault! FanFiction has been plaguing me with multiple errors and issues all day. I've sent of 6 emails and nothing had been done until now. It is still having MAJOR incidents and it's just by luck that I've gotten this chapter up after battling all day with FanFiction! Thank you everyone for your patience and your reviews. Your reviews were the only thing of my story that I could enjoy today! The good news is, that I'm almost done with chapter 73 and I'm starting on chapter 74. I'm too worn out tonight to battle getting the next chapter up. Hope and pray that FanFiction actually works tomorrow! It's so frustrating since I'm used to updating 1-2 times a day!**

**I won't send Roses, is my #1 story and I'm having so much fun with it. I call it my #1 story, because it's not only my favorite, but it ranks #1 over all the stories I've written on here for the last 3 years. I just wanted to thank my readers and reviewers for making this a truly, wonderful experience. **

**And a special thanks to Superblueowl, who found this story today and finished it.**


	73. 73: The decisions we make

Chapter seventy-three

The decisions we make

"Mind palace." John gasps out, pointing at Sherlock and disrupting my thoughts. "Use your mind palace."

Sherlock looks at John as if he's insane. "How will that help?"

"You've salted away every fact under the sun!" John shouts.

"Oh, and you think I've just got how to defuse a bomb tucked away in there somewhere?" Sherlock shouts back at him.

"Yes!"

Sherlock thinks about it for a second. "Maybe." He brings his fingers up to the sides of his face and shuts his eyes tightly.

"Think." John prods him. Sherlock lifts his head a little, still concentrating. "Think. Please think." Sherlock lets out a groan. "Think!"

John's pushing at Sherlock makes the decision for me. If there was a chance for Sherlock to dismantle the bomb, he could do it, but not with John shouting at him and heaping more pressure on him. "Quiet John!" I snap as I step towards Sherlock, placing my hand on the small of his back. "Relax." My own heart rate is spiraling out of this world, but thank God my voice is even. For a moment, I feel him relax slightly under my touch, and then he tenses up again. Sherlock's hands flail madly with his eyes closed and he begins to make groaning noises. Then Sherlock lets out a cry and opens his eyes. He breathes heavily for a moment, then he looks at us with a blank, apologetic look on his face.

John and I both stare at him in disbelief. "Oh my God." John turns aside, but all I can do is stare at Sherlock as he tears his scarf from around his neck, bends over, burying his head in his hands, making incoherent groaning noises. He drops to his knees next to the bomb. "This is it." I kneel down beside Sherlock as he flails uselessly over the bomb. John is still talking softly, as if he's coming to terms that this is the end of his life. "Oh my God."

Sherlock begins patting around the device and mumbling vaguely. "Turn that off. Oh God! Er, um, er." I can see that it's at 1:29 and I cover his hand with mine. Sherlock raises his head and looks at me. The look on his face is almost too much for me to bear. I've never, ever, seen Sherlock's face so pale, nor, have I ever seen him struggle to keep back tears in his eyes. I shake my head quietly. "What are you doing here? Why'd you come back?"

I bit my lip and admit. "I can't do it again."

He reaches up and touches my face. "Tammy."

"No." I said quietly. "It almost killed me when you were dead the first time, to loose you a second time…it really would kill me. Your parents will take care of Sherlock and Linda, probably spoil them to death." I shift my shoulder and fight back the tears that are going to fill my eyes. "Besides, you knew I couldn't make it out of here alive anyway."

Sherlock raises his head and looks towards John. "I'm sorry."

John closes his eyes for a moment, then looks at Sherlock. "What?"

Sherlock's expression is so upsetting and humbling. For the first time, Sherlock admits that he doesn't know something. "I can't ... I can't do it, John. I don't know how." He straightens up on his knees. "Forgive me?"

"What?" John's voice is tight and furious.

He brings his hands up into that familiar, praying position. "Please, John, Tammy, forgive me ... for all the hurt that I caused you."

John shakes his head, waving a finger at him. "No, no, no, no, no, no. This is a trick."

"No."

"Another one of your bloody tricks."

"No."

"You're just trying to make me say something nice."

Sherlock chuckles briefly. "Not this time."

"It's just to make you look good even though you behaved like-

John is now fighting back tears, and turns away as he tries to steady his breathing. Sherlock moves away from the bomb and sits on the edge of one of the seats. He still has a hold of my hand as he pulls me onto his lap so that I'm straddling him. I close my eyes, wrap my arms around his neck and embrace the inevitable. For some reason, I don't feel frightened as he wraps his hands around my hips and leans his forehead into my chest.

John stamps his foot and speaks hoarsely. "I wanted you not to be dead."

"Yeah, well," Sherlock says quietly. "be careful what you wish for." John sighs and I run my hand through Sherlock's hair, toying with that particular curl that rests in the middle of his forehead. "If I hadn't come back, you wouldn't be standing there and …you'd still have a future with Mary.

John turns and points at him. "Yeah. I know." Sherlock clenches his fist against his mouth, then wipes his nose as tears dribble down his cheeks. "Look, I find it difficult." Sherlock nods. "I find it difficult, this sort of stuff."

Sherlock looks up at him. "I know." He looks at me, wiping away the tears that are streaming down my cheeks. "Why aren't you freaking out?"

"I am," I said quietly as I tighten my grip around his neck. "I'm freaking out on the inside and not on the outside. It helps…because I've just got something to hold onto."

John exhales, straightens up and looks at Sherlock. His voice is a cracked, whisper. "You were the best and the wisest man ...that I have ever known." Sherlock looks at him; his eyes wide and tear-filled. He doesn't seem to believe what he's actually hearing. "Yes, of course I forgive you."

Sherlock gazes at me. "And you Tammy, I've completely ruined your life. Not once, but twice. I ruined it by first allowing myself to actually…care for you, ruined your relationship with your brother. Then, I put you in jeopardy by marrying you, break your heart and leaving you to bear our children alone. Then I come back after you've got your life back into order and mess it up again."

"Shut up Sherlock." I say firmly. "I forgave you for everything the moment I saw you again." He stares at me in surprise. "Honest, I did."

He tilts his head to the side and brushes my cheek with his knuckles. "I honestly, at times, did think of letting you go, " I held my breath as he spoke. "But then I thought about those two years and decided that they weren't worth repeating."

"I wouldn't have traded the pleasure of keeping the crown jewels in exchange for an hour of being loved by you."

Sherlock leans forward and kisses me; his mouth is relaxed while mine is completely tense, waiting for death. Only Sherlock Holmes could be faced with death and be so calm about the whole situation. He breaks the kiss, rests his chin on my shoulder as I close my eyes tight. Sherlock's shoulders begin to shake and for a moment, I believe that he's actually crying out loud. But as my ears become accustomed to the sound, I realized that I'm hearing laughter, not tears. Why is he laughing? John opens his eyes as he too realizes that Sherlock is laughing loudly.

I pull away from Sherlock and turn towards John as steps forward and looks down at the countdown clock on the mother bomb. I jump up in shock as I realized that it is stuck between 1:28 and 1:29. The bomb is paused! I then realized that Sherlock must have switched it off!

My mouth falls open in shock as John looks at the clock again and then stares upwards in total disbelief. "You-

Sherlock stands up; tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks, as he laughs hysterically. "Oh, your face!" I gasp and grab on to my rapidly pounding heart as I realize that Sherlock has played us for a fool.

"Utter-

"Your face!"

"You-

Sherlock grins. "I totally had you."

"You cock! I knew it! I knew it!"

Sherlock is laughing and all I can seem to do is continue to stare at the men in complete shock. "Oh, those things you said such sweet things! I-I never knew you cared!"

John glares at him. "I will kill you if you ever breathe a word of this."

"Scout's honor."

"To anyone! You knew!" Sherlock squats down to the bomb as John furiously shouts at him. "You knew how to turn it off!"

"There's an off switch." He states calmly.

"What?!" John and I shout.

"There's always an off switch." He explains to us. "Terrorists can get into all sorts of problems unless there's an off switch."

I gasp and hold onto my chest as John speaks tightly. "So why did you let us go through all that?"

"I didn't lie altogether." Sherlock explains. "I've absolutely _no_ idea how to turn any of these silly little lights off." He chuckles and wipes the tears off his cheeks. "Oh!"

Behind us, flashlights are approaching. John stares, then points towards the flickering lights. "And you did call the police."

"Course I called the police." Sherlock explains as if he's talking to a child.

John groans. "I'm definitely gonna kill you."

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Oh, please! Killing me…. that's so two years ago." He makes the mistake of looking at me. "And I don't see what you're so upset about. Tammy is taking thing relatively well."

I let out a scream and lunge at Sherlock, hands prepared to strangle him. Sherlock's eyes widen as I throw myself at him, hard enough to knock him to the ground! He lets out a grunt as his head hits the floor, hard. "You bastard!" I shout. "You son of a," his eyes widen and I change the choice of words. "dodo bird! How dare you!" I grab a hold of his neck and start shaking him. "How dare you!? Why do you do that to people!?"

Sherlock grabbed a hold of my hands and flipped me over, reversing our positions. I shriek and struggle under him. "I guess you're mad at me?"

"MAD!?" I scream. "I'm FURIOUS! Oh, I am going to kill you!" He laughs loudly at me. "Don't you laugh at me when I'm mad at you!" I scream. He only laughs louder. "You SHUT UP!"

"I guess you're _really _mad at me?"

"Damn right I am!" I shout. "What is it about me being mad that you don't understand? I'll use small words to be sure that you understand. Are you such a stupid idiot to think that I wouldn't get mad at you? Wait a minute, to call you stupid would be an insult to stupid people!" Sherlock leaned forward and I struggled against his hands, which held me firmly by the wrist. I knew he was going to kiss me and that would officially end my tirade and I didn't want it to be over yet! "Don't you dare!" I twist my head to the side and shout. "John!"

Sherlock's lips cover mine and I let out several angry sounds as I buck against him, my attempts to get him off me only seem to delight him further. I squeal, but somehow, my anger turns and twists into a mad, frantic, and crazy passion. Had we been at home, he would have torn my clothes off and had me on the spot. I push on his chest, trying to break it up. But Sherlock is insistent and my arms soon find themselves around Sherlock's neck. He boldly smiles against my lips, deducing correctly that I'd surrendered to his advances.

"Hey, you two," John says. "Lestrade is coming. Break it up."

Sherlock gets off me, smirking down at me triumphantly as I lay there on the ground, trying to collect my breath. He pulls me up and smiles as I cling to his coat. "See, you're not really that mad, are you?" I shake my head breathlessly as he nuzzles my forehead. "Thought not."

At that moment, I decide that I'm going to have my revenge on him. I'm going to go out on a date….with someone other than Sherlock. And I'd been eyeing a red, clinging cocktail dress for days. It had a deep neckline and the skirt definitely would be riding high on my thighs when I sat down. I made a mental note to ask Greg if he knew any single man that Sherlock hadn't met yet. Then, he'd send him over tomorrow night, prepared to take me clubbing! Ohh, was he going to suffer!


	74. 74: Sherlock's evil twin

Chapter seventy-four

Sherlock's evil twin

I tap on Sherlock's bedroom and enter the room. _Sherlock, please. I beg of you._ I can hear Mycroft speaking on the phone. The familiar sounds of 'Do you hear the people sing' is playing in the background. He must be watching Les Miserables with his parents. But from the tone of his voice, he was definitely hating it and was trying to get Sherlock to take over. _You can take over at the interval._

Sherlock is in front of the wardrobe mirror and attempting to button his jacket with one hand. "Oh, I'm sorry, brother dear, but you made a promise." I step up and button his coat for him. "There's nothing I can do to help." He smiles at me, and rests his hand on my hip. "Thank you."

_But you don't understand the pain of it _he gasped out._ the horror!_

Grinning, Sherlock ends the call and turns towards me. "Hello."

"I guess Mycroft has no appreciation for the arts."

"Look who's talking." Sherlock said. "I got you the movie Les Miserables, with Hugh Jackman and Russell Crowe and you laugh throughout the whole movie!"

"Sorry! But, I'm used to Alfie Boe, Michael Ball, Ramin Karimloo and other famous singers. What else am I supposed to do when I hear them butchering the music?"

"Technically, they are on key."

"I'm the singer, you're the detective, so shut up." I smile and pat his chest. "Come on. John and everyone is waiting."

Sherlock groans. "Who cares?"

He leans forward to kiss me but I notice John approaching us and evade his mouth. "John's coming."

Sherlock groans again. "Why does he have such terrible timing?"

I give him a quick peck on the lips, turn and walk away. "Come on." John says. "You'll have to go down. They want the story."

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock walks past him, in pursuit of me. "In a minute."

We walk into the living room where Mary, Mrs. Hudson, and Greg are all sitting, holding an empty champagne glass. Sherlock pops the cork on a new bottle and walks across the room with the bottle and two glasses.

"Oh, I'm really pleased, Mary." Mrs. Hudson chirps. "Have you set a date?"

"Well we thought May." Mary says.

"Oh! Spring wedding!"

"Well," Mary blushes. "once we've actually got engaged."

"Yeah." John says.

Mary looks pointedly at Sherlock. "We were interrupted last time."

I frown and shake my head at him. "That's Sherlock for you."

"Well, I can't wait." Greg raises his glass in a toast.

Sherlock puts down the glasses he's just poured, stands up and walks across the room to where I'm standing by the window.

"You will be there, Sherlock?" Mary asks.

Sherlock makes a face. "Weddings…not really my thing." He winks at Mary and she smiles.

I smile. "He'll fuss, complain, kick his heels, come up with three hundred different reasons why he can't come, but he'll show up." I smile as he hands me my glass of champagne. "But he won't miss it, he wouldn't dare miss his best and only friend's wedding for the world. Thank you."

He clinks his glass against mine. "Here's to us."

I whisper. "Sherlock, not our moment."

"I can make it our moment." He slides his arm around my waist. "But I'd prefer to wait a bit longer. So, here's to us."

I shake my head and touch my glass to his. "Here's to us."

He wiggles his brows at me before taking a sip. The alcohol warms me and I feel it slide down my throat and nestle in my stomach. I'm not a major wine drinker, even though I love champagne, I can't help but have my off days. The flat door opens and I turn to see Molly enter the flat. "Hello, everyone."

"Hey, Molly." John says.

I approach her, to observe that she is happily holding hands with the man accompanying her. "This is Tom." John stares at her boyfriend, and we both do a double take; we both turn back and look across the room towards Sherlock. Mary is oblivious to our surprise. "Tom, this is everyone."

Tom nods. "Hi."

John continues to stare at him in surprise. I study the man, if the makeup was done right, he could be Sherlock's double. He is tall, has dark curly hair that is a little shorter than Sherlock's. He has large eyes, prominent cheekbones, he's even wearing a dark coat with the collar turned up and a scarf around his neck.

Lestrade approaches and shakes his hand. "Hi."

"It's really nice to meet you all." He looks at John. "Hi."

John is able to pull himself together. "Wow. Yeah, hi. I'm John." He shakes his hand. "Good to meet you."

I turn towards Sherlock, who is looking out of the window. "Tammy?" I turn at Molly's voice. She gestures and I realize that tom is standing in front of me.

"Hi." I say uneasily. "I'm er, uhm, Tammy Holmes."

"Mrs. Sherlock Holmes?"

I shrug. "I honestly don't know."

"Ready?" Sherlock asks.

"Ready."

Tom turns to meet Sherlock, who catches sight of Tom for the first time. He stops dead and his eyes widen. Tom looks at him equally wide-eyed as Sherlock gives him the once-over from his feet upwards. I hold my breath, expecting Sherlock to do one of his rapid-fire deductions. But he doesn't, he remains silent, that in itself is unnerving for me. He knows something, but he's keeping it hidden.

"Champagne?" Lestrade says to Molly.

"Yes."

Sherlock's jaw drops a little and he turns towards John, who grins back at him expectantly. Finally Sherlock holds out his hand to Tom, and they shake hands. I exhale deeply as Sherlock walks in between the couple and out of the door.

Greg hands Molly a glass of champagne. "Thanks."

I turn and follow John and Sherlock. Once on the landing, John walks over to Sherlock, who is looping his scarf around his neck. John points back towards the door. "Did you-

Sherlock responds quietly. "I'm not saying a word."

"No, best not."

"Well, since you two know something I obviously don't know, why don't you share with the rest of the class?" Sherlock shakes his head at me and I step in front of him. "And you're not going anywhere until you tell me. I mean it Sherlock whatever-your-middle-name is Holmes!"

Sherlock exhales. "When she strings my name up together like that she's serious. Fine." He leans forward and whispers. "You remember the little girl who was abducted by Moriarty?" I nod. "Everyone assumed she reacted like that because I was her kidnapper. But I deduced Moriarty must have found someone who looked very like me to plant suspicion, and that that man, whoever he was, had to be got out of the way as soon as his usefulness ended. That meant there was a corpse in a morgue somewhere that looked just like me."

"Hold on, wait a minute." I say. "Then why did the boy lie to me? He went through that whole trial and everything."

"Mycroft. He explained to the family that everything was under control. Since you were dead set on clearing my name, thank you for that, to go ahead and clear the name. The real kidnapper was dead. We actually did find a corpse that looked like me and Mycroft presented them with the evidence, proving that I wasn't the kidnapper. He then coached the boy into saying the proper things."

"And I gave him your hat."

He smirked. "He actually was a fan of mine, so wise choice. He wasn't totally convinced that I was the kidnapper. Mycroft says that he did notice a few things about him that weren't right."

"Do you perjury is a crime?" I shook my head. "Did I actually win the case, or was that rigged as well?"

"Oh come on Tammy," he said rubbing my shoulder. "you're a brilliant little fighter. I saw the footage, quite impressive, I was actually moved," he tilted my face up towards his. "very much." He leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the mouth.

I sigh and push away from him. "And…now Molly's engaged to the actual kidnapper. Wonderful. And I tried to introduce her to Charles! But of course, she would fall in love with your evil twin!" A sudden thought strikes me and I sober instantly. Molly and Sherlock...suddenly, dozens of little instances flooded my mind and I felt sick to my stomach.

Unfortunately for me, Sherlock notices. "What? You've thought of something?"

"Not really."

"You're a bad liar Tammy. What is it?"

"I'm a good liar, I just don't want to tell you."

"You better tell me or I am going to publicly grope you out there!"

I glower at him. "Molly's in love with you!"

As usual, I got a bigger reaction from John. "What?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I've known a long time."

I stare at him. "What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You're a woman. I thought all women had a sense of these sort of things."

"I hate to change the subject, but I'm still waiting." John said, trying to steer us clear of a pending argument. "Why did they try and kill me? If they knew you were on to them, why go after me…put me in the bonfire?"

Sherlock picks up his coat. "I don't know. I don't like not knowing." He trots down the stairs with John and I following. "Unlike the nicely embellished fictions on your blog, John, real life is rarely so neat." He stops at the bottom of the stairs to put his coat on. I follow him all the way down but John stops a couple of steps from the bottom. "I don't know who was behind all this, but I will find out, I promise you."

John says. "Don't pretend you're not enjoying this."

Sherlock doesn't even turn around. "Hmm?"

"Being back. Being a hero again."

"Oh, don't be stupid." Sherlock says.

"Quote. Don't make people into heroes John. Heroes don't exist and if they did, I wouldn't be one of them. Unquote."

Sherlock shakes his head. "Well, you actually do listen to me."

"Shut up."

"You'd have to be an idiot not to see it." John points out. "You love it."

Sherlock turns to face him. "Love what?"

"Being Sherlock Holmes."

"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean." He turns and puts his gloves on. "You have everything?"

"Sherlock, you are gonna tell me how you did it?" John asked. "How you jumped off that building and survived?"

Sherlock pauses but turns around. "You know my methods, John. I am known to be indestructible. Tammy has said so many times and she's often right about such things."

"I also call you an idiot," I remind him. "or does that not count?"

He ignores me, so John speaks. "No, but seriously. When you were dead, I went to your grave."

"I should hope so."

"I made a little speech. I actually spoke to you."

Sherlock finally turns to look at him. "I know. I was there."

"I asked you for one more miracle. I asked you to stop being dead."

He nods and speaks softly. "I heard you. I heard Tammy too." They look at each other for a moment, and then Sherlock draws in a sharp breath. "Anyway, time to go and be Sherlock Holmes."

I watch as he hesitates, and then reaches for that deerstalker hat that's hanging there. I hold my breath as he slowly puts it up on his head. "Oh my God!" the words slip out before I can stop them. He turns and looks at me as I shake my head in glee. "You're _actually _putting it on."

He shrugs. "People like it." He takes my hand and drags me towards the door. "Let's just go and get this over with."

"Are you sure you want me out there?"

"Of course I do." He stops and turns towards me. "I'd be lost without my wife."

I pause. "Wait a minute. Sherlock, what if…they know that our marriage is dissolved?"

He shrugged. "Just leave that to me."

"I know! And that's what I'm worried about! God alone knows what's going to come out of that mouth of yours and I'm certain He even starts breaking a sweat when he knows what you're going to say!"


	75. 75: Ode to a nightingalewhen I see you

Chapter seventy-five

Ode to a nightingale and when I see you smile

* * *

_Two days later,_

* * *

Greg was more than happy to oblige, and true to his word, he found someone. The date was at 8:30, so at 8:00, I got up from the movie Sherlock and I were watching and went to change into that red dress. I knew it was a good dress when I saw it. It was made out that silky, slinky type of material that clung ensured that it would cling to me in all the proper places. . I put on my most alarming shade of red lipstick, climbed into my red heels and added a huge red flower clip.

I opened the door, to find Sherlock standing up, his clothes changed and he was holding out a red rose to me. "Ahh," he says with that smirk on his face. "I see my date is ready."

"You!" I snarl as I stomp my foot. The whole room has gone a drastic change. The tables are pushed back, there's candles lit and there are several bouquets of roses here and there. He laughs. "How did you know? Never mind! You're Sherlock Holmes!"

He takes my coat from my arm and throws it over the couch. "I called Greg and told him to cancel your 'date' as I all ready knew about it. Now, if you didn't talk so loud on your phone, I wouldn't have known about it!"

I groan. "Can't I have any surprises when I'm around you?"

"I thought I just gave you one."

"Shut up."

He laughed. "But honestly Tammy, if I hadn't heard, I would have been crazy."

Mrs. Hudson laughed as she came up with a small tray of food. "Here you go!" She sighed as Sherlock took the tray from her. "This is so romantic. Have fun you two!"

I smile at her and glower at Sherlock the moment the door shuts. "So, what is this?"

"We're on a date." He explained, setting the tray down to reveal it was done up with all of my favorite treats. He flips the lights off and smiles approvingly at me. "You're dressed appropriately."

"I hate you."

He laughs at me and walks up to me. "So you say many times when you mean exactly the opposite." I shake my head and smile at him. "Am I forgiven?"

I exhale. "I'll tell you as soon as this date is over. So, what are we doing?"

Sherlock takes ahold of my hand and guides me towards the couch. "Well I finally found 'Ode to a Nightingale,' if you recall, I was going to read it to you."

I nod and settle down beside him, snitching one of the white chocolate twists. "I remember."

He opens the small book on the table and begins browsing through it. I grab a strawberry and hold it up to his mouth. He takes a bite and talks around it. "Thank you." I tuck my legs up on the couch and he glances at me. "Comfortable?"

"Very."

"I think you'd be more comfortable with your head on my shoulder."

I blink, caught off guard at his open offer of comfort. "All right." I put my head on his shoulder. "I'm ready."

* * *

**Now if you go one Youtube, you can find Benedict Cumberbatch reading 'Ode to a nightingale.' I definitely suggest listening to him read it while you read along.**

* * *

"My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains my sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk. Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains one minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot. But being too happy in _thine_ happiness," he rests his hand on my bare shoulder, stroking it gently. "that thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees. In some melodious plot of beechen green and shadows numberless, singest of summer in full-throated ease."

At this point, my eyes have drifted closed and my breathing has changed to a slower rhythm "O, for a draught of vintage! That hath been cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth. Tasting of Flora and the country green, dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth! O for a beaker full of the warm South, full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene. With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, and purple-stained mouth; that I might drink, and leave the world unseen, and with thee fade away into the forest dim."

"Fade, far away, dissolve, and quite forget what thou among the leaves hast never known. The weariness, the fever, and the fret. Here, where men sit and hear each other groan. Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs. Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies. Where but to think is to be full of sorrow and leaden-eyed despairs. Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, or new Love pine at them beyond tomorrow."

"Away! Away! For I _will_ fly to thee. Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, but on the viewless wings of Poesy, though the dull brain perplexes and retards. Already with thee! Tender is the night, and haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne. Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays. But here, there is no light. Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways."

"I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs. But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet, wherewith the seasonable month endows. The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild; white hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine. Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves, and mid-May's eldest child. The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine. The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves."

"Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death. Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, to take into the air my quiet breath. Now more than ever seems it rich to die, to cease upon the midnight with no pain. While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad in such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain, to thy high requiem become a sod."

"Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down. The voice I hear this passing night was heard in ancient days by emperor and clown. Perhaps the self-same song that found a path, through the sad heart of Ruth. When, sick for home, she stood in tears amid the alien corn. The same that oft-times hath charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn."

"Forlorn! The very word is like a bell to toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu! The fancy cannot cheat so well, as she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! Adieu! Thy plaintive anthem fades past the near meadows, over the still stream. Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep in the next valley-glades. Was it a vision, or a waking dream?  
Fled is that music, do I wake or sleep?"

Sherlock sets the book aside, and he places his hand on my head, gently stroking my hair. After some long moments of silence, I look up at him. "That was….too beautiful, for words." Sherlock rolls his eyes. "I mean it Sherlock. If you could read the most beautiful words in the world, you'd easily outsell Madonna."

He frowned. "Who's Madonna?"

I laugh lightly. "No one of importance. Honest." Sherlock exhales and rubs my shoulder. He abruptly gets up and out of his seat without giving me any warning. I straighten up from my fallen over position. "You're quite the romantic aren't you?"

He shrugs. "I have my moments." He browses through his phone. "And this is definitely going to be one of them." He sets his phone down as music comes through the speakers. He holds his hand out to me. "May I?"

I frown, unsure of what he's asking. "May you what?"

He groans. "Dance?"

I frown, but then I catch on. "Oh!" I put my hand in his and stand up. "Yes! I'd love to dance with you."

He pulls me close, his hands resting on my hips and I wrap my arms around his neck. I smile as we sway back and forth. We're not ballroom dancing, but this was a special dance unto itself. "I heard this song in a restaurant while I was on a case, and I almost lost a suspect. Thanks to you."

I glower at him. "I wasn't anywhere near you."

"You were in my _head_." He states. "Doesn't mean that you aren't anywhere near me. It's called 'When I see you smile' recorded by someone named Uncle Ben. Stupid name for a recording artist. It has….everything…I want to say to you, but can't."

_Sometimes I wonder how I ever make it through this world without having you. I just wouldn't have a clue. And sometimes it seems like this world's closing on me. And there's no way of breaking free, then I see you reach out for me. Sometimes I wanna give up, wanna give in, wanna quit the fight. _He takes one of my hands from his neck, joins our fingers together, and presses my hand against his chest._ Then one look at you baby can make everything all right. _I tremble as he presses a sweet kiss on my cheek before resting his cheek against mine. _Make everything all right. _

_When I see you smile, I can face the world. Oh, you know that I can do anything. When I see you smile, I see a ray of light. Oh, I see you shining right through the rain, _he takes my face in his hand, tilts it up so I have to look at him. _When I see you smile. Baby, when I see you smile at me. _He runs his thumb over the corner of my mouth.

_Baby there's nothing in this world that could ever do, _I reach up and touch his face, trailing my knuckles down his fine cheekbones. _what a touch of your hands can do. It's like nothing I ever knew. _I shake, fighting against the tears that are desperate to start overflowing. _Oh, and when the rain is falling, I can hear it. Cause your heart with me. And one look at you baby, is all I ever need._ Sherlock takes my face in his and presses his forehead against mine._ Is all I ever need, oh._

At this point I loose all my control and I start sobbing uncontrollably. I close my eyes as I tightly grip onto his hands. Sherlock is either smiling, or rolling his eyes, but I can't open my eyes to find out. He steps away from me and I open my eyes to see that he is no longer standing in front of me.

He's actually on the ground, on one knee. He reaches up and takes my hands in his. I gasp as he runs his fingers over my hands. "Personally, I would have preferred to do this without getting on one knee, but it's what you want, so I'll do." I shake my head in happy dismay. "Now, I think I've done everything that you've asked of me. I've kept my hands off you…pretty much. I wasn't sure I'd won you back until we were in that carriage and you chose to stay with me. Even if you were intending to kill me afterwards." I laugh lightly. "And I'd like things to go back to the way things were with us. So, will you marry me?" I can't help but smile at his blunt tone. "Of course you haven't got to decide right away, but think about it for a while. I can't advise you in my favor because I think it would be beastly for you, but I do that you think about how nice it would be for me!"

He moves to get up, but I stop him. "Don't you dare move Sherlock Holmes!" I shake my head as he frowns, looking up at me. "Now, in spite of your…ridiculously adorable proposal suggestion that I take some time and think on it, I don't have to think for long." I bite my lip, smiling as he looks towards my mouth. "Now, I shall answer your proposal, as soon as you answer one question for me."

He frowns. "That doesn't make sense."

I laugh. "Why do you want to marry me? And you need to tell me the words that I really need to hear!"

He tilts his head to the side and responds hesitantly. "I love you?"

"Well do you?"

"Of course I do!" He looks at me as if I'm an idiot. "Do you think I'd be down here on one knee, with my leg falling asleep if I didn't mean it!?"

"Sorry!" I laugh. "Yes! I'm a fool to accept it on such an…unromantic way of professing it to me. But, yes Sherlock, since I love you and I'm so….sweetly informed that you love me too." He lets out a short laugh. I'd be honored to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Can I get up now?"

I laugh. "Of course!"

He stands up, reaches into his pocket and slides a ring on my hand. On close examination, it's my wedding ring from our first marriage. "You're not superstitious are you?"

"Not really. But don't you think it odd that you're proposing to me with my old wedding ring?"

"No." He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses me briefly and fondly. "I am giving you a new wedding ring."

My mouth drops open. "Sherlock."

"We're starting our marriage over again. It's a new chapter and you deserve a new ring. And you _won't _argue with me!"

"I only meant that…wouldn't you propose with my engagement ring?"

"No." Sherlock pulls me into a tight embrace. Happiness flows over me as I close my eyes, desperate to hold onto this moment forever. "Why'd you marry me the first time? You must have known that I wouldn't be easy to live with."

"Sherlock," I respond softly as I run my hand through his hair. "you don't marry someone you can live with. You marry the person you can't live _without_." His eyes narrow before understanding flashes in his eyes. "And like it or not, I can't live without you."

Sherlock leans forward and kisses me. I smile against him as I lean against him. His hands grip my hips and he pulls me against him. Heat flushes through my body as I feel his desire against me. I grab at his coat lapels, this time, finding it extremely difficult to say no to him. Oh, these were familiar feelings that that I hated more than anything.

"Don't deny me tonight. Please." I groan as he kisses me again. The hunger, want and want inside his kiss. It was brief, but I knew he wanted me so much, I could taste the desperation on his lips was almost too much for me. "Please. Don't you know how it's been for me, to see you every day like this?" I gasp as he cups my face with his hands, those long finger of his stroking my neck. "Having to ask for your touch and for your kisses? If I have to beg for your body, then I'll do so. Just give me the word."

I cover my mouth as tears fill my eyes. "Sherlock." I bite my lip. "I do want you, but I can't. I am so, so, sorry Sherlock. I want you." I wrap my arms tightly around his neck. "I do, I really, really do. I want nothing more for you to take me, make love to me, and claim me as you did so many times when we were married. But….I can't. It's just….this part of me." I shake my head and look down at him. "I just…can't unless-

Sherlock placed his finger on my mouth. "Unless we're married again?" I nod and he exhales. For a moment I think he's upset with me, but his tone changes. "Don't worry, I figured that's what you'd say. Just thought I'd take a chance, hope you'd change your mind."

"I know. I wish I could, I mean, after all, we've been married before and we are getting married again. It's this dress...I shouldn't have worn it."

He covers my mouth again with his finger. "Hey, it's ok. It's one of those…little things that I love about you. As for the dress, every woman deserves to feel beautiful when she's getting a marriage proposal, even if it is her second one. I waited for you once, remember?" I nodded as he strokes my cheek with his thumb. "You gave me everything you had. I can wait to make you mine again. But know….that I am _not _going to wait long. I am not a patient man."

I flush and nod. "Yes. I remember _very _well."

"And if I also remember, it was well worth the wait. And since we're both experienced now, it'll be even better." He then snaps out of his romantic mode and turns into Mr. Strictly business. "So…when are we getting married again?"

"I'd actually like a very simple wedding Sherlock. Just John, Mary, your parents, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade."

"No Molly or Mycroft?"

"I probably should invite her, but then she'll invite your evil twin."

Sherlock nodded. "True. All right, just immediate friends then. Mycroft?"

"The man who dissolved our marriage in the first place?"

"Hmm, I see what you mean. So how long will this take?"

I exhale. "A month I think."

His brows arched. "A month? Can you honestly pull off a wedding in a week?"

"Yes. I'll ask Angelo to cater, that's done. We can rearrange my flat and have the ceremony up there."

"Flowers?"

"Just my bouquet."

"Music?"

"We'll use my MP3 player. Select the music prior."

"Cake? Never mind, Angelo's got that taken care of. Photographer?"

"I'm sure you know someone who'll drop anything for you."

"Wedding dress?"

"I've got one."

He nods. "Right. So all we have to do is select a date for next month, right?"

I nod. "Correct...Mr. Holmes."

"I shall look forward to it….soon to be Mrs. Holmes."


	76. 76: Reunited

Chapter seventy-six

Reunited

* * *

_A month later, December 15th,_

* * *

Mary shakes her head as I study my reflection in the mirror. "I don't know Tammy. Are you sure Sherlock is going to like this dress?"

I smirk. "He's going to fall in love with me the moment he sees the front, then go insanely crazy the moment he sees the back." The white dress was made of silk, that hung gracefully around me, but showed my shape nicely. The neckline, was a little low, and the diamond ring definitely showed a little more of my breasts than I'd ever shown in public. The back, was the surprise I definitely was going to love. From the front, the dress looked like a halter dress, but when one saw the back, it revealed a deep, plunging back. Definitely the most immodest thing I've ever worn I public. But I wanted to catch Sherlock off guard and I was definitely going to do that with this dress. "But overall, how do I look?"

"Lovely." Mary turns to Linda, who's playing with the flowers in the basket. "Are you ready?"

I nod. "Yes, John can start the music now."

She nods and takes Linda's hand. Linda hurries happily follows Mary towards the door. I grab my bouquet of red roses and follow after her. Mary climbs up the stairs and nods to John who's waiting nearby. He scurries into the room and starts my MP3 player, we'd decided on the Downton Abbey theme instead of the wedding march. Personally, I hated that tune and Sherlock hated it as well. He wasn't fond of Downton Abbey either, but he gave in for my sake. Mary found her seat; John hurried to take his place by Sherlock's side. Sherlock was concentrating on getting Linda over. She was more interested in everyone else instead of walking down the 'aisle' that we'd created. Sherlock pulled out a lollipop, bribing her, her eyes lit up and she scurried for it. Sherlock pocket it and she pouted.

I shook my head and came around the corner just as Sherlock straightened up. His eyes flashed in surprise. I'd told him I wasn't getting a new dress and that had been a difficult lie to hide. The way his eyes scanned me told me that I'd made the right choice in dress.

Little Sherlock stood beside his father, holding onto the rings and looking bored and solemn. But the moment I reached his father and took his hand, he plopped down on his rear end, still clutching the pillow.

Everyone smiles and Sherlock holds onto my hands tightly as we listen to the minister drone on, and on before finally coming to the vows. The renewal vows had been somewhat difficult. But I had found the perfect vows online, but I'd personalized them a bit.

Sherlock exhaled, preparing himself for the speech, before making eye contact with me. "I take you Tammy, to be my wife, again. I vow to hold you in my arms each opportunity I get because there is no one I'd rather be holding." Oh, there goes that voice again. All ready my eyes start to prickle. "In the two years that I was absent from your life, I realized that there was nowhere I would rather be for the rest of my life than with you again. And when I almost lost you to someone else," he released my hand and rested his hand on my cheek, gently stroking it. "my heart and head, finally realized what I had carelessly cast aside. I know that we have made promises to one another before in the past, but this time I will keep all of the promises. Again, I swear that I will love you, because I want you for always. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, month, years and for all eternities hereafter. I will do all I can to maintain an open line of communication with you, even when it seems or feels that things are not getting better. I will not forsake you or these vows that we have made again, but rather strive to show you my love for the rest of our lives. I promise to be a patient, loving father to Sherlock and Linda, caring and providing for them. I promise to be their strength and their emotional support, loving them with all my heart. This is my promise to you."

At this point, I cannot refrain from jumping forward and kissing him lightly on the lips. Everyone lets out an 'aww' as I draw back. I hear several people sniffing and know he's moved everyone to tears. Sherlock frowns at me, somewhat surprised by my display of affection. "You're supposed to do that _after _we're married." He points out. "Don't you think-

"Oh shut up," I choke out. "I'd be a fool if I didn't kiss you after hearing those words." I take his hands in mine, shifting a little closer towards him. "Sherlock, we have been through this once before. We remarry today, not because it wasn't that the first time was not enough. Though frankly, people do think I'm a little crazy to come back for more craziness with you." He smirks at that. "It is not out of fame or fortune, lust or greed. I want to relive a moment in my life that I will always be proud of. A moment that was never too dull or grand, it was simply just right. I loved you then, I love you now, and I always do. No matter what you say or do, I will always love you." At this point, everyone, including myself is in tears. Sherlock is having a difficult time fighting back the tears. "I mean to only borrow some immortal words from Emily Brontes 'Wuthering Height's. My love for you resembles the eternal rocks beneath; a source of little visible delight, but necessary. You are always, always in my mind. Not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being. And when you were gone, and I thought you dead, I begged you to be with me always even though my head demanded that I set you free." At this point, my emotions catch up with me and tears threaten to choke me. "My heart was begging that you take any form, drive me mad, only _do_ _not_ leave me alone in this world without you! I _cannot_ live without my life, I _cannot_ live without my soul, therefore I _cannot_ live without you!"

Sherlock leaned forward and folded me into a hug, that was short lived. As his hands went across my back, he felt the skin and frowned. I fought back a smile as his hands dipped lower, finding more skin. Suddenly, Sherlock said, "What happened to the back of your dress?" everyone laughed at him and he scowled. "Well?"

"They made it this way Sherlock." I said wiping my eyes. "Jeez, you know how to spoil a moment don't you?"

He frowns. "Rather improper for a wedding don't you think?"

"Tell me about it after you've given me your name, again!"

Sherlock glowered at me and I made a face at him. But several long minutes later, I was Sherlock's wife again. He got me a silver band, with a small diamond in it. The kiss had been a rather gentle, unmemorable kiss, but I could taste that he had something planned later, I just didn't know what.

"Why'd you buy this dress?" he whispered as he helped me into my seat. "It's nothing I'd ever thought I'd see you wear."

"I just thought I'd exact my revenge for that bomb scare you gave me."

He scowled at me. "I apologized."

"Yes, but I didn't get my revenge." I smiled. "You…have to wait until we're all alone before you see more than what I've displayed."

"Or," he leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "I could drag you down the bedroom and have my way with you now."

My face went beet red and I stared at him. "I can't believe you just said that!"

John cleared his throat. "I don't think we want to know what he said do we?"

"No!" I say. "You definitely do not! John, the speech, now! Please!"

"Oh God." Sherlock groaned as he sat down beside me. He took off his son's tie and shoved it in his pocket. "Great."

John stood up. "Ok, at Tammy's request ladies and gentlemen, I have the honor of acting as the best man for the second time for this couple." He cleared his throat, reached into his pocket, pulled out his notes and began to read. "But understand, if you two get married a third time, you must find a new best man. You know the saying, thrice the best man, never the groom." Everyone laughed. "This is an especially eventful day because it offers Sherlock and Tammy each a second chance at happiness. Sherlock and Tammy have each walked many miles to be here together today, and this wedding is a joy to behold. I can speak for everyone in this room when I say we all wish you the happiness that you deserve. We are so glad that even Sherlock's faked death couldn't separate you two from the love that you share together. You've both worked hard to get here today. It's been said that if marriage is to be a success, one should begin by marrying the right person. It's obvious that each of you is indeed marrying the right person today. I don't think I've ever seen a couple who compliment each other as much as these two do." I frown as John continues. "Sherlock is a highly intelligent, loud-spoken, unorganized and rude man. He is very well respected in his line of work and he's just a generally all round nice guy, when he's not being totally annoying! Which unfortunately for everyone is pretty much most of the time.

And Tammy, is a dear friend and a beautiful woman, inside and out. To see her with Sherlock is an amazing thing to see. She's quiet, modest, sweet and yet she has this fiery temper and a truly, sharp sense of humor. She has these subtle bursts of intelligence that save time on a case and she is well loved by everyone. I enjoy watching Tammy and Sherlock challenge each other, especially Tammy, she doesn't always cave to his wishes. She'll get right in his face and threaten him and he'll actually do as she says most of the time. They are very supportive of each other. They are two people with a wonderful amount of chemistry and they are a joy to know. Their family is rounded out by their two children, Sherlock Jr. and Linda and who knows how many more little blessings are going to come around after tonight."

"Oh, definitely lot's more John." Sherlock said loudly, and everyone laughed as I blushed.

"Sherlock." I hiss.

"_And_ if we weren't stuck here, we'd at our hotel making another set of twins!"

"Sherlock!" I shriek in embarrassment. "Will you shut up?"

"Sorry."

"No you're not!"

As I was saying," John said quickly. I glower at Sherlock, he smirks and toys with my hand. I try yanking my hand free, but he won't let me go. He grins broadly as I give in and turn back to John. "they say that there is no surprise as magical as finding your life's mate later in life. You two must feel the magic, even while you're quarreling, because it seems as if your happiness emanates from you on this very magical day! I really feel that I would be remiss if I did not just give you a couple of pieces of advice. However, though, Sherlock, these are 100% directed at you."

"Why me?" Sherlock asks. "Why always me?"

"First, never go to bed angry…always stay up and argue. Second, always remember the three little words, I love you. Those are the hardest words for you to say, but for Tammy's sake, do say it a bit more. Even if you record it and leave on her phone for her to play. Thirdly, the best way to remember your anniversary is to forget it once! However, since you two have remarried, you'll have two anniversary's to remember now!" Everyone laughs and I elbow Sherlock. "Let's raise our glasses as we toast this couple: May you both live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live."

I kicked Sherlock under the table as everyone toasted us. "What?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, aren't you at least going to shake his hand?"

"Fine." Sherlock huffed, but he did as I asked. He not only shook John's hand, but also gave him an awkward around the shoulder hug. "Thanks John." I smile as I watch the two men. Truly, they were best friends. Sherlock cleared his throat. "And now, I've got a surprise for my wife." Everyone murmured as Sherlock pulled me from my chair. "I cheated her out of this on our first wedding and I wish to make it up to her." Sherlock walked over to my MP3 player and selected an unfamiliar song. I frowned as Sherlock stepped back, bowed and held out his hand. I covered my mouth as he asked. "May I have the honor of this dance with you?"

I could only nod as tears flowed down my cheeks. Everyone gasped and applauded as Sherlock pulled me close. _I was a fool to ever leave your side. _I inhale as he rested his head against mine for a moment. I stand there, relishing the moment. _Me minus you is such a lonely ride. That break-up we had has made me lonesome and sad. I realize I love you cause I want you back, hey-hey. _Sherlock pulled me into dance position and we began dancing. It was Nightclub 2-Step, my favorite dance. _I spent the evening with the radio. Regret the moment that I let you go. Our quarrel was such a way of learning so much. I know now that I love you cause I need your touch, hey-hey. _

_Reunited and it feels so good. Reunited cause we understood. There's one perfect fit and sugar this one is it. _Sherlock twirled me around, wrapping me into the 'sweetheart position.' This was always my favorite dance position. It not only looked impressive, but it felt wonderful. _We both are so excited cause we're reunited, hey-hey. I sat here staring at the same old wall. Came back to life just when I got your call. I wished I could climb right through the telephone line. And give you what you want so you would still be mine, hey-hey. I can't go cheating honey, I can't play. I found it very hard to stay away. _

_As we reminisce on precious moments like this. _Sherlock spun me towards him, stopping me short, capturing my face in his hands. I struggle to breathe at the passion blazing, unrestrained in his eyes. _I'm glad we're back together cause, I missed your kiss, hey-hey. _Sherlock pulled my face towards his and he kissed me. _Reunited and it feels so good. _Heat filled me at this kiss. _Reunited cause we understood._ It was unlike any other kiss he'd given me. It was unrestrained, unafraid of showing everyone in the room that he loved me. His hands circled my hips and he lifted me up, making this a movie worthy kiss._ There's one perfect fit and sugar this one is it_ That searching tongue of his searched my mouth anxiously, I ran my hands through his hair as the whistles and cheers loudly pervaded the room. _. We both are so excited cause we're reunited, hey-hey._

I felt rather giddy and drunk with love as Sherlock pulled back down to earth. "Happily reunited Mrs. Holmes?"

"Definitely, Mr. Holmes."


	77. 77: I will be loved tonight

Chapter seventy-seven

I will be loved tonight

I feel a little uneasy as Sherlock and I enter our hotel room for the night. It had been two years and though I was looking forward to him, I was still somewhat conscious about my body. After all, I had twins and I knew that I'd been able to gain any weight to fill myself out better. Sherlock's parents were staying in our flat for the night, taking advantage of our 'honeymoon' to grant us a night together.

Sherlock slams the door shut, disrupting my thoughts, whips me around to capture me in a kiss. I drop my overnight bag and grab onto his coat, instinctively helping him out of his coat. I back up, crashing into a table, flailing backwards. Sherlock doesn't seem to care that he's got me on a table instead of a bed. His hands are rather busy pulling my dress up around my waist until he grabs onto my exposed hip.

I grab his hand. "Wait." I mumble against his mouth. "Wait a minute."

He groans and looks down at me. "Let me guess…too fast?"

"No. In spite of what you believe, I was kinda expecting you to do something like that." I pat his chest gently at the look of disappointment on his face. "I'd like to freshen up."

He stares down at me with a disbelieving expression. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. Let me up."

"You are aware that I really want to tear this dress off you?"

I nod. "Yes, but I'd like this dress for another occasion. Hand me my bag, please."

Sherlock exhaled and got off me. "Fine." I smoothed my dress, straightened up and took my bag that he extended towards me. "Thank you."

"I'll wait…again." He makes a face as he tugs off his tie. "Try not to take too long."

"And hang up your clothes." I headed towards the bathroom. "I'll be out as soon as I feel like it!"

Sherlock snorted as I closed turned on the light, closed the bathroom and opened up my bag. I'd purchased white negligee for my first wedding, but Sherlock had insisted on helping me out of my dress and told me that I didn't need it. I was planning on wearing on our first anniversary, but since that never happened, our second wedding night would be the perfect occasion. I smiled contentedly as I got out of my dress, hanging it up.

Sherlock tapped on the door. "Need any help getting out of your dress?"

"No. I just slide out of it." I shake my head. "Thank you for the offer."

Sherlock lets out an inaudible sound on the other side of the door. After applying my lipstick, I begin absent-mindedly humming, then softly scatting before breaking out into song. _Well, pop the champagne break out the cologne, _I slide the negligee over my head and smooth it down. _turn up the moonlight and turn off the phone. Well, what a surprise, a man is in sight and I will be loved tonight. _

"Getting anxious?" Sherlock teased on the other side of the door.

I shake my head and continue singing. _To fondle his skin, to savor his lips; to nozzle his chin, to move with his hips. Our words will be soft as we softly ignite. _I reach for my hairbrush, begin brushing my hair with a broad smile on my face._ And I will be loved, tonight! You can go from week from week; you can from year to year. _I set my brush aside and reach for the perfume I wore on my first wedding night, 'Phantom of the opera' and sprayed myself heavily. _Not a hand placed on your cheek, not a whisper in your ear. You can make it through ok, you can live and laugh and flirt. _I stand up and walk towards the bathroom door. _It's quite easy in the day…it's just the nights that always… hurt. _

I open the door and smile to find Sherlock sitting on the bed, clad only in his boxers, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bare legs. He stands up, surprise in his eyes at my choice of outfits today. He stands up and holds out his hand for me. "You're just full of surprises tonight aren't you?"

I nod and approach him; the song is almost over so I decide to finish singing. _So let darkness come, cause that will be fine. _He shakes his head as I smile at him. _For I'll have a soul entangled with mine,_ I take his hand and he pulls me towards him. _ we'll do as we please. _I look up into Sherlock's dazzling eyes. _So please hold me tight. _His arms eagerly press me tightly against him. _ For I will be loved, I will be loved. _Sherlock's hands massaged my hips for a few moments._ Yes! _My 'yes' came out a little more enthusiastic than planned and Sherlock gave me an amused smile. _I will be loved, _My voice softened and my heart rate sped up. Y_es, loved, _he brushes my hair back from my face._ tonight._

He leans forward and kisses me on the mouth. I smile and bring my hand up to stroke his face. He breaks the kiss and murmurs against my forehead. "You must know every song on the face of this earth."

I smile and wrap my arms around his waist. I feel his skin tremble under my touch. "Kiss me Sherlock, please."

Sherlock leaned forward. "Your wish….is my command."

I inhaled and closed my eyes as Sherlock's lips tenderly claimed mine. Or at least it was supposed to be tender. The moment our lips met, fire burned my soul seized my overflowing heart. I deepened the kiss slightly, inviting him to officially take me as he wanted. I was ready now. His grip on my waist slid down to cup my hips in his hands before lifting me up from the ground. His lips grew more passionate as I wrapped my legs around his waist. The feelings that we'd been attempting to fight for weeks grew like a huge bubble and burst. With every breath, sigh and kiss, the emotions turned into something that frightened and fueled both of us.

My body reacted to his as his hand crept up towards my breast. I leaned deeper into his exploring hand. Sherlock instantly reacted and began backing me up towards the bed. Moments later, we were on the bed. Sherlock nudged me backward towards the head of the bed, not breaking contact until my head thumped on the headboard.

"Sorry." He said breaking the kiss.

"I'm ok." I assured him.

His gaze and hands moved down to my negligee. I observed his hands were trembling as he drew it up and over my head, leaving me completely exposed to his gaze. His hands hesitated on the waistband of my underwear. "Tell me to stop," he said tightly, his voice tells me that he is straining for control, but a part of him is remembering to consider my feelings. "and I will."

"Don't you dare stop. Please continue." Sherlock obliged me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, smiling at him teasingly, after he'd removed my underwear. "Now…make love to me Mr. Holmes. This isn't our first wedding night, so do try to make it interesting."

He looked deeply into my eyes, studying me closely before removing the last piece of clothing on his person. True, this was our second marriage, but there was still some unease with both of us, understandably. But then the moment we looked at each other, all restraint, unease and thoughts of taking it easy just evaporated out the window! Heat filled me as Sherlock kissed me; his tongue invading my mouth. I moaned as heat and sensations tore my body. His mind ordered me to submit to him, so I did, I moved my legs aside, inviting him in.

I did feel some pain as Sherlock entered me, but I didn't care. Tears filled my eyes, I don't know why. Maybe it was because I'd thought I'd never feel Sherlock within me again and the feeling was so wonderful. But he didn't move, he remained completely still."

I opened my eyes to see a triumphant look came over his face. "Mine." His voice was a low growl that sent shivers all over me. He gave a hard thrust and I cried out. "You are mine." I bucked against Sherlock, asking for him to continue. "You want more?" He teased me darkly.

"Yes!"

"Beg me." He ordered.

I stared at him in amazement. "What?"

"Beg me." He repeated his demand. "You need me to ensure that you orgasm, so if you want it, beg me for it."

I lick my lips. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Sherlock, please."

He snapped. "Sherlock please, what?"

"Make love to me!" I snapped back at him.

"How?" He hissed. "Tell me Tammy."

I groan. "Oh for God's sake. Fine!" I'd had enough of this game. "Take me, ravish me, kiss me, use me anyway you want, just move it!"

He didn't hesitate in fulfilling my demands. Those hands of his were everywhere on me! His lips sent me to heaven and my mind was a fevered blur, as his thrusts grew deeper. Even after two years, Sherlock knew exactly which spot caused me to cry out his name in whimpers. I buried my face in his neck, breathing in his cologne deeply. He grabbed a hold of my hair, turned my face towards his. He bit my lower lip and I clenched tighter around him. My fingers dug into him, clinging onto him for dear life as he moved faster inside me. My cries filled the room with Sherlock's shout of triumph as we came together in unbridled satisfaction.

I gasped for air as he breathed hot air on my neck. I ran my hand down his scarred back, which had a fine sweat on it now. I smiled as I ran my hair through his curls. Sherlock lifted his head from my neck, placing two sweet, gentle and brief kisses on my mouth. "You are…so beautiful."

I smile at him before returning his kisses. "You are….amazing."

He doesn't look convinced. "Mediocre at best."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't argue with your wife. I've missed this for two years, it was…perfect."

"That's the difference with us Tammy." He explained, that rapid deduction tone creeping into his voice. "You've been missing it, I on the other hand have been looking forward to it. I've had two whole years to think of all sorts of things that I was going to do once I had you under me." He threatened and I flushed red at the animalistic look in his eyes as he moved to possess my lips. "By the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember your own name! And believe me…you won't!"


	78. 78: King for a day

Chapter seventy-eight

King for a day

I awoke to find myself with my head nestled against Sherlock's chest. He was running his hands through my hair, talking softly, words that I couldn't quite make out. I turned so I was lying on my back, looking upwards at him. "Good morning."

"Afternoon is more like it." He leaned forward and kissed me. Almost instantly, the flame between us was ignited. I groaned as he grabbed me around my waist, lifting me up so I was straddling him. I moaned and moved against him. Someone banged on the door and we both groaned. "It's John." Sherlock bit out. "It's always John!"

I laugh, crawl off his lap, grab my negligee from where it's been placed on my nightstand then I pull it back over my head. "Get the door."

"Fine." He got up, mumbling under his breath as he got into his robe.

"I'll order lunch, then."

No sooner had I gotten off the phone with room service did Sherlock stomp back into the room carrying the editorial pages of the book john and I were going to publish. "So," he said depositing the pages on the bed. "you and john were writing up my cases?"

I nodded. "Yes. Want to proof read them?"

"I'd have preferred to not to that on our honeymoon. But he said the editor was threatening to bring it down here to us. And John thought that it was better than he bring it to us instead of the editor. How does he even know where we are?"

"A friend of Mycroft's."

Sherlock made a face. "Stupid pick as an editor. I'll pay him a visit and get you two some more time." He said as he climbed into the bed with me, reaching for two pens inside his nightstand. We snuggled close together and I reached for the pages. "Why not? You guys probably left everything of importance out."

I laugh and we begin browsing through the papers. Sherlock grabbed the dedication page, his eyes narrowed as he read the words there. I flushed and looked down at the covers, the words I'd written were very personal and I felt slightly embarrassed that he was reading them. I'd written them in a special moment, our anniversary, and it was very personal. At the time, I hadn't minded it definitely persuaded the readers that I was believed in his innocence and I dared anyone to doubt the love I'd shared with him.

Sherlock didn't say a word, but he folded that paper up and tucked it into his nightstand. He kissed my forehead and continued reading through the book. Occasionally, he'd write something in, a detail that we'd missed, or he'd cross something about himself out. He kept his hand on my shoulder the entire time we speed-read the book together.

We would have stayed in bed all day if Sherlock hadn't suggested a walk. Of course, we had to take a shower and it wasn't a short rinse off as was planned. Sherlock evidentially just loved the feel of my skin when I was wet and after not having made love together for two years, both of us were starving for each other. Then we went out for lunch in the park, Sherlock actually held my hand, swinging it back and forth between us. It wasn't a beautiful day, it was dark and gloomy, but to be walking with him again, it was like walking in heaven.

I began humming the song that we danced to. "Like that song?"

I nodded. "I love it. It was the perfect song choice Sherlock. You surprised me, many times yesterday."

We took refuge under a willow tree. I lean back against the tree. "I don't know. You surprised me as well." He leans forward and murmurs in my ear. "You looked very, very sexy all day and night yesterday." I flush and he laughs. "Love it when you do that."

"Do what?"

"You always flush when I call you sexy." My ear tips heat up and Sherlock chuckles. "See?"

"Well, it's your fault!" he looks at me indignantly. "Well, your voice just makes everything sound so….dirty!" he laughs loudly. "Well you do! You could make the phonebook sound like the most romantic thing ever!"

"Flattering." He rests his head against mine. "You do look sexy though."

"I had twins." I reminded him.

"And they made quite an improvement to your figure."

"I'm glad I looked….sexy to you." I groaned and hissed. "Why am I discussing this kind of material in a park with you?"

"Because there's no one around."

"It's not proper. Well, what do you care what improper? You can show up dressed in a bed sheet at Buckingham Palace."

"And you're the one who goes around displaying your assets every time you want to make me jealous."

"I only tried to make you jealous once and as you recall, it ended with you proposing to me!"

"So you say. You were sucking up to all those firemen that night."

"I was helping."

"Were you honestly going to throw up before I kissed you?" He asked. "Or did you just write that in for fun?"

"No." I shook my head. "I was tired, excited and a dozen other things. But that has nothing to do with making you jealous!"

"Are you forgetting that black cocktail dress?" He steps closer, taking my wrist in his, reading my pulse as he whispered hotly. "And that moment in the library?" a moan slipped out of my lips and Sherlock grinned. "I see you haven't. Mycroft was very upset that you only had eyes for me."

"The man looks like he sucks pickles."

"You didn't think much of me when we first met."

"That was then, this is now, different story."

"Too tell you the truth I was rather surprised you asked me to indentify the color of your underwear. Didn't expect that."

"I figured, now change the subject."

"Right, can't afford setting you off on our last day together. Tomorrow we have to go back to the real world."

"Yes, and I've got some Christmas shopping to do for the kids, your parents, Mrs. Hudson, John, Mary, Molly and Greg."

Sherlock nodded. "Indeed."

"Don't worry." I said. "I'll pick out several presents that we can give to everyone together."

"I wasn't thinking about others. I was thinking about you."

"I've got you back." I said. "I don't need another present from you."

He shrugs. "Fine. Do you want me to wrap myself up in that ridiculous string and all?"

I laugh. "No! Still, that is an amusing picture if you think about it!"

I shivered slightly and Sherlock noticed. "Back to hotel for you."

"Back to the hotel or back to the hotel bed?" I teased him with an arched brow.

He smiled slyly down at me. "I think the hotel bed, you look like you definitely need to be warmed up."

"Indeed. I'd like some nice cocoa too."

Sherlock shook his head. "I've had a taste of you drinks in bed on our honeymoon before. No thanks!"

I rolled my eyes. "Sorry, I just wasn't used to waking up in a man's bed, even if it was with my husband."

"Understandable. Someday," he said as he wrapped his arm around my waist. "I'll take you on a real honeymoon."

"That sounds lovely," I sigh. "but, we've been down this road so many times Sherlock. I doubt we're ever going to find the time."

"Sorry I couldn't be attached to a more boring job, if I did I could take the time to give you a proper honeymoon."

"And if you had a boring job than you wouldn't be Sherlock Holmes, I'd be marrying the wrong man! Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm certain that for the next two weeks you'll make up for the honeymoon." Sherlock chuckled darkly. "Besides I don't think we could get away for a honeymoon anyway. Especially now that we've got children. I don't even like leaving them alone even for two nights."

"My parents love this kind of thing, don't know why." He nodded. "But I see what you mean, that kinda does put a damper on things."

"Are you sorry?" I asked him quietly. "Sorry that you got me pregnant?"

He frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"If I hadn't been pregnant…we could do things more freely. We wouldn't have to worry about them."

Sherlock shrugged. "Well, it was bound to happen, you're a little… arduous to impregnate immediately, but it would have happened anyway. No, I'm not sorry. Besides, it was a wish you wanted and it was one that gave me extreme pleasure to fulfill."

I blush. "You do say such deliciously dirty things at times. In fact, you're being rather sweet and romantic lately."

"Well, you did remarry me. Figured that I owed you several moments to make up for all the ones we set apart. I do regret that I wasn't here for you and the children for two years. They seem to be adjusting to me nicely."

"Yes. Sherlock knew Charles wasn't his father. I don't know how."

"He's my son isn't he?"

I nod. "Yes, but he was there and you weren't."

"Children sometimes get a sense of these things. Probably noticed the lack of actual affection between the two. Not to mention, Charles didn't resemble either of them in any way, shape or form."

"And Linda takes after me I assume? She's not going to be as bright?"

His brow arched. "On the contrary, she's going to be more intelligent than Sherlock, you wait and see!"

* * *

**Almost forgot, my profile has link so you can see the image of Tammy's second wedding dress.**


	79. 79: The best man

Chapter seventy-nine

The best man

_One month later,_

John and Mary were going to be getting married three months from now on April 5th. Sherlock was kinda excited, even though he tried not to show it. John and Mary, unlike Sherlock and I were going to have a huge wedding. Sherlock and I helped out where we could. Sherlock even put a few of his cases on hold, unless something interesting came up.

Sherlock again, was fighting his smoking addiction, thanks to his undercover work. So he was relatively a little cranky. Today, he was entertaining little Sherlock at the kitchen table. And when I mean entertaining, he was using a blowtorch to melt an eyeball. Now, I didn't like the idea, but as long as he wasn't complaining about being bored, I was fine with it.

"Sherlock?" John said as he entered the flat. "Tammy?"

"Hello John." Linda squeals happily and 'runs' towards John, she winds up tripping and falling flat on her face. But she bounces right up again and hugs his leg.

"Uncle John." She gurgles.

"Hello princess."

Sherlock scowls at him. "That's _my _nickname for her."

"Sorry." John says apologetically before dislodging himself from Linda's octopus arms.

Sherlock asks. "What was that noise downstairs?"

John turns to enter the kitchen. "Er, it was Mrs. Hudson laughing."

Sherlock made a face. "Sounded like she was torturing an owl."

"Sherlock." I comment, suggesting that he speak a little nicer.

"Yeah." John said. "Well, it was laughter."

Sherlock observed. "Could have been both."

John takes a look at what he's doing and I can tell by the look on his face he's wondering how Sherlock talked me into allowing him to make eyeball smores on my dinner table. "Busy?"

Sherlock sighs heavily. "Just occupying myself. Sometimes, it's sooo hard not smoking."

"But you promised me." I reminded him.

"Indeed."

"Ahh, so that's why Tammy's letting you roast eyeballs."

I nod. "No smoking, it's bad for brainwork. And until all humans develop their brains to Sherlock's level, his brain must be kept in the best of health.

The eyeball slips out of Sherlock's tweezers and drops into his mug of tea. I grimace and begin making him a fresh cup. John nods. "Mind if I interrupt?"

Sherlock puts the tweezers down and gestures towards a chair. "Be my guest." He then switches off the blowtorch. Little Sherlock pouts and frowns unhappily. Sherlock picks up the mug, with the eyeball and offers it to him. "Tea?"

John shakes his hand to ward off the offensive cup of tea. Sherlock puts the mug down and takes off his safety glasses. John sits down, I can tell that there's something on his mind. "So, the big question."

Sherlock nods, not completely interested in what John has to say. "Mm-hm."

John folds his hands and places them on the table. "The best man."

I get it instantly, but Sherlock doesn't. "The best man?" he asks.

John says. "What do you think?"

Sherlock replies instantly. "Billy Kincaid."

John and I both frown. "Sorry, what?"

"Billy Kincaid, the Camden Garrotter, best man I ever knew. Vast contributions to charity, never disclosed." Sherlock is so busy making his deductions that he doesn't realize that John is frowning. "Personally managed to save three hospitals from closure and ran the best and safest children's homes in north England." Sherlock grimaces briefly. "Yes, every now and again there'd be some garrotings, but stacking up the lives saved against the garrottings, on balance I'd say-

John finally interrupts him "For my wedding! For me, I need a best man."

Sherlock nods. "Oh, right."

"Maybe not a Garrotter."

"Gavin?" Sherlock offers.

John frowns. "Who?"

"Gavin Lestrade?" I moan in aggravation. "He's a man, and good at it."

"It's Greg, and he's not my best friend."

"For a man with such a brilliant mind, how come you can't even remember Greg's first name? The cigarette damage must have taken its toll on your brain in that little area!"

Sherlock ignores me and continues with his deductions. "Oh, Mike Stamford, I see. Well, he's nice, um, though I'm not sure how well he'd cope with all-

"No, Mike's great, but he's not my best friend." Sherlock looks at him as if he can't think of another friend to suggest. Even though it's plain as the nose on his face that Sherlock is his best friend. "Look, Sherlock, this is the biggest and most important day of my life."

Sherlock is somewhat dubious at this point. "Well."

"No, it is!" John says as I draw myself up indignantly. "It is, and I want to be up there with the two people that I love and care about most in the world."

Sherlock agrees. "Yes."

John nods. Sherlock is still oblivious as he stands there, waiting for john to tell him who these people are. "Mary Morstan."

"Yes."

John sighs tightly. "And," he glances up at Sherlock, who is still waiting patiently for further information. Finally, John confesses. "you." Sherlock blinks rapidly several times but other than that, he doesn't move or react. In fact, Sherlock is perfectly motionless. "Sherlock?" but Sherlock doesn't react. He's like frozen in time, staring blindly out into space. The silence drags on for long seconds. "That's getting a bit scary now."

"Oh for God's sake," I throw my rag at him. "Sherlock, John asked you to be his best man!"

Sherlock snaps out of it and flicks the rag off his shoulder. "So, in fact," he pauses for a moment. "you, you mean-

"Yes."

"I'm your," John nods. "best-

Sherlock's voice dies and John finishes the sentence for him. "man."

But Sherlock speaks the same time as John does. "Friend?"

"Yeah, of course you are. Course you're my best friend." He smiles.

"Obviously." I mutter as Sherlock absent-mindedly picks up the mug from the table and raises it towards his mouth. "Sherlock!" I shout a moment too late as he takes a long drink and then swallows. I groan and shudder with disgust.

John stares at Sherlock. "Well, how was that?"

Sherlock licks his lips, thinks about it for a moment, then nods. "Surprisingly okay."

My stomach begins churning violently at the thought of an eyeball floating around in my tea. I approach Sherlock with a fresh cup of tea as John continues speaking. "So you'll have to make a speech, of course."

Sherlock's brain goes offline again for a moment. "What?" I take the mug out of his hand, but make the mistake of looking down to see the eyeball floating on the surface of the tea. I gag, drop the mug, shattering it as I bolt for the bathroom. "Tammy?" I make it to the toilet just in time to loose my breakfast. After several retching moments, I straighten up, wipe my mouth with some toilet paper, and then flush the mess I've made away. I turn around and bump smack into Sherlock. He hands me a glass of water. "Rinse your mouth."

"Thank you." I say hoarsely as I turn towards the sink. "I hate vomiting."

"You should be used it by now," he stated casually as he pulled out my toothbrush and put some toothpaste on it. "after all, you had twins."

"But that wasn't recent and I didn't have time to notice how crummy I was feeling since I felt crummy enough." I began swishing the water around in my mouth. Sherlock waited patiently for me to finish before handing me my toothbrush. "Thank you." I brush my teeth vigorously as Sherlock stands over me. Urgh, toothpaste tastes terrible.

I spit the disgusting foam out and begin to rinse my mouth. "Most dentists require that you brush for-

"I know Sherlock, you're not my dentist. I shudder. "Ugh, that is so disgusting."

He spins me around. "I removed the offensive object from your sight, so you can come back out."

I smile. "Thank you." He leans forward to kiss me, but I turn my head. "No, I must taste-

Sherlock kisses me anyway. I groan as he smiles against my mouth. I shake my head as he breaks the kiss to touch his forehead to mine. "You taste fine."

I shake my head. "You're incorrigible." I step past him and head to the door. "Now, I've got to get some groceries, watch the kids and try to stay out of trouble for a few minutes."

The grocery list wasn't a big one. I just needed some bread, milk, eggs and a few other items like that. I couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes. I was approaching the flat when I noticed a car careening down the street, speeding crazily. I stared as Greg jumped out of the car as he parked it haphazardly.

"Greg?" I ask. "What's wrong?"

"Sherlock's in trouble!" he shouts as he runs up the stairs.

"What!?" I shriek. "How?"

"Don't know!" Greg and I race up the stairs and into the living room. Greg stops short and I crash into the back of him to see Sherlock sitting at the dining table, with his laptop, fingers pressed deeply into his temples. "What's going on?" Greg gasps out.

Sherlock doesn't even look up. "This is hard."

"What?" Greg and I are stunned. I'm still trying to get my breath back.

"Really hard. Hardest thing I've ever had to do." He picks up a book and holds it up to show Greg. The book is called "How to write an unforgettable best man speech". He must have popped out to the corner bookstore to get it. "Have you any funny stories about John?"

Greg and I stare at him in disbelief. Outside, I can hear police cars approaching. " What?!" Greg says.

Sherlock puts the book down and looks up at us. "I need anecdotes." He then seems to notice our stunned expressions. "Didn't go to any trouble, did you?"

Greg can only stares at him. Outside I can hear an ambulance and a helicopter approaching. Sherlock's eyes shift as he slowly becomes aware of the noise outside. The curtains behind him billow as the helicopter hovers low, knocking some sheet music off the stand. Linda and Sherlock immediately go towards the window and peer outside.

Greg closes his eyes in exasperation. "Eighteen months." He bites out. "Eighteen months."

"Greg," I reply as controlled as I can. "what made you think Sherlock was in trouble?"

"This." Greg hands me his phone. I stared at the text that Sherlock had sent Greg. It was all in capital letters. _HELP. BAKER ST. NOW. HELP ME. PLEASE. _"I finally get set up to catch the entire Walter's family in action and you pull this on me! Now Jones will get all the credit!"

"Sherlock!" I scold him as I set the groceries down on the counter and begin pulling them out. "How could you!? Greg's been working so hard."

"I needed help." He stated. "I didn't say to call in the all of Scotland Yard!"

I scream and throw the egg at Sherlock. It splashes against his head. "Ohh, you egghead! You _never _need help! And you made it seem so urgent! Didn't anyone ever tell you about the boy who cried wolf?"

Sherlock shrugged as he wiped off his face calmly. "Stupid little story, didn't see much point in it. And why are you throwing eggs Tammy? That's a waste of food and I'm sure the chicken's don't appreciate it."

I shriek. "Shut up! Just…shut up!" He begins laughing at me. "Oh, don't you start that! I am not speaking do you again? Do you hear me!?"

"I did." He stands up and walks towards the kitchen to get some paper towels to wipe the egg out of his hair. "But I thought you said you weren't speaking to me again!"

"I'm not!"

"Then stop talking to me!"

Linda let out a shriek and I turn to see Sherlock jr. biting her finger. He's chomping down on her finger like she's a carrot. I walk over and slap his hand. "No. Don't do that." He lets out a howl of bloody murder and I groan. "Now look what you started!"

Sherlock stared at me. "What _I _started!? As I seem to recall it was your idea to have kids in the first place!"

"But I didn't hold a gun to your head and force the issue."

"Oh stop it Tammy, you know you rather enjoyed the whole process."

I opened my mouth to say something, but I find myself rather struck dumb at his outrageously true comment. The only thing that comes out of my mouth is. "I hate you."

Sherlock flinches for a second and leans forward. "What was that?"

"I said, I hate you."

He frowns and walks towards me, his eyes deducing my body language. "You hate me…and then you remarry me. I don't see the logic in that statement."

"I hate you," I bite out. "because you're _always _right the whole, bloody, time."

Relief rolls off Sherlock's shoulders. "Good." He leans down and kisses my forehead. "Now why don't you offer Greg a cup of tea?"

I nod and stand up, without his assistance. "How about it Greg?" a quick glance at him and I change my offer. "I've got some wine stashed away somewhere. Would you prefer that?"

He shakes his head.

I move Sherlock over and go onto his Twitter page that we both operate. He crosses his arms and watch as I tweet. _Greg Lestrade captures the Walters Bank gang in action. Congratulations inspector! Our money is finally safe to remain in our banks! _I hit enter and Sherlock frowns. "That's not exactly true you know."

"Oh shut up." I said. "You robbed him from his chance, it's the least you can do."

"Yeah, but what am I going to do when I start getting questions about Jones?"

I hastily tweet another one off. _You'll read about an inspector Jones getting the credit. But Lestrade left to help me out in a critical situation before making the arrest. What else are friends for? Jones may make the arrest, but Lestrade definitely deserves the credit for finally capturing these men! _

I hit enter and cross my arms and look down at him. "There! Now if you get anymore excuses, you should write them off. Greg worked hard and he deserves to get the credit."

"It took him eighteen months."

"Well, excuse us, we can't all be you. And if everyone in the world was like you there wouldn't be a moment's peace!"


	80. 80: Sickeningly, sweet, psychopath

Chapter eighty

Sickeningly, sweet, psychopath

Mary made the biggest mistake in the world. She asked Sherlock to be their wedding coordinator. Well, it was a great job and Sherlock would look forward to the challenge, but I knew there was going to be an issue. Sherlock loved being in control of things and he was definitely going to make a mess out of their wedding. Or at least that's what my opinion was, until I saw him in action.

But then I changed my tune when I came home one afternoon to find Sherlock sitting opposite a strange man, holding a pen. Both their heads whipped around to observe me. "Sorry." I said. "I didn't know you had a client."

Sherlock gave me a curt nod. "It's fine."

"So," the man asked. "what exactly are my duties as an usher?"

Sherlock puts the pen down and folds his hands, giving the man a sharp glare. "Let's talk about Mary, first."

"Sorry," the poor man was completely taken a back. "what?"

Sherlock leaned forward. "Oh, I think you know what. You went out with her for two years."

The man stammered and I walked over to peer over Sherlock's shoulder to review his notes. "Ahh, ages ago. We're... we're just good friends now."

"Is that a fact?" Sherlock sneered before looking down at his notes. "Whenever she tweets, you respond within five minutes regardless of time or current location, suggesting you have her on text alert." I close my eyes and rub my nose. "In all your Facebook photographs of the happy couple, Mary takes center frame whereas John is always partly or entirely excluded."

David attempts to laugh it off, but his laugh is very uncomfortable. "You can't assume from that I've still got some kind of interest in Mary."

Sherlock leans forward. "You volunteered to be a shoulder to cry on, on no less than three separate occasions. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

David opens his mouth but is unable to speak a single word. I exhale. "What am I going to do with you?"

Sherlock looks down and makes another note. "I think from now on we'll downgrade you to 'casual acquaintance'. No more than three planned social encounters a year, and always in John's presence." David nervously toys with the Sudokube on the desk. Sherlock puts the pen down and folds his hands, giving David an intense stare. "I have your contact details. I will be monitoring."

David stares at him wide-eyed. "They're right about you. You're a bloody psychopath."

I immediately jump to his defense. "Why you-

Sherlock reaches up and covers my mouth. "A high-functioning sociopath ...with your number." He grins maniacally at David before he drops his hands into that familiar prayer position. David looks down, then lets out a nervous breath and gets up and walks away. Sherlock picks up the Sudokube and puts it back into its proper position. "Boring."

"You…are such a psychopath."

Sherlock reached behind me and tugged me into his lap. "Psychopath?"

"No one can call you psychopath except for me?"

He kisses my cheek. "And am I as psychopath?"

I shake my head. "Not really. You're just….crazy."

"Yoo-hoo." Mrs. Hudson calls up the stairs. "Sherlock? There's an Archie and his mom here to see you."

"Right." I get up from Sherlock's lap. "I'll make them a cup of tea. What's this boy coming here for?"

Sherlock shrugs. "Ring bearer."

I snicker. "Good luck Sherlock. He's probably going to be difficult." I stop and tilt my head. "Maybe I should bring out the boxing gloves."

One cue the children called me. Sherlock smirked. "Back to the kitchen mother."

"Shut up you psychopath."

So I found myself joining them both in coloring pictures. Well, Linda is much more interested in staring at Archie. Sherlock is sitting in his chair and Archie sitting in John's chair. Both of them are having a stare down contest together.

Sherlock is the first to speak. "Basically it's a cute smile to the bride's side, cute smile to the groom's side and then the rings."

"No." Archie says stubbornly. I hear a tone that tells me he's just as stubborn as Sherlock."

"And you have to wear the outfit."

"No."

"You really do have to wear the outfit."

"What for?"

"Grown-ups like that sort of thing."

"Why?"

Sherlock pauses for a second. "I don't know. I'll ask one. Tammy?"

"It's a tradition Sherlock." I state. "And one cannot progress into the future without respecting the laws of tradition."

"You heard her."

Archie says thoughtfully. "You're a detective."

"Yep." Sherlock pops the 'p' loudly.

"Have you solved any murders?"

"Sure. Loads."

"Can I see?"

Sherlock hesitates a moment before responding. "Yeah, all right."

They get up and go over to Sherlock's laptop. I can't see what they're looking at, but the boys are interested. Archie leans in to get a closer look at whatever's on the screen. "What's all the stuff in his eye?"

My mother senses become instantly alert as Sherlock replies. "Maggots."

"Sherlock!" I shriek.

"Cool!"

Sherlock examines his interested face for a moment. "Mm!"

I walk over and slam the laptop lid down. "Gross. Sherlock, have you lost your mind?"

Sherlock flipped the lid up. "Continue Archie." I reach for the lid but Sherlock catches ahold of my wrists and moves me towards the bedroom. "Follow me."

"No! I will not!"

Sherlock smirked at Archie. "We'll be back in a moment. Continue!"

I growl as he drags me into the bedroom. "Don't even think about it!" I snap at him the minute the door closes behind us.

"About what?"

"About kissing me," his hand squeezes my hip and I grab his wrist. "or any of that! It always works and I want to talk to you."

He wraps his hands around my waist. "And we can't talk like this?"

"No."

"Now calm down. You've been flying off the handle lately."

"If I do it's because of the things you do. Sherlock! You cannot go around showing children pictures like that!"

"Why not?"

My mouth falls open. "He's not old enough!"

"I was looking at stuff like that when I was his age."

"And we see how that turned out. For God's sake, are you going to show our children images like that when they're growing up?"

"The more familiar they are with pictures like that, the easier it'll be for them to deduce the situation."

I groan. "No you won't."

"Why not?"

"Because Sherlock, there's a time and a place for everything. I'd rather they not be exposed to the darker side of the world until they were older. Not to mention, this _is not _your child and as a mother, I know I wouldn't approve of anyone showing our children pictures of sexual intercourse." He started to open his mouth but I cut him off. "I know, there is a difference between violence and sex. But as I stated there's a time and place for everything."

He nods. "I get your point. All right, I won't show him anything else."

"Thank you." I turned and walked out of the room. "Now let's go, I left the children unguarded."

"They're fine. They're not screaming or anything."

He catches my hand and twirls my fingers. I smile. "You're sweet, you know?"

"One minute I'm a psychopath and the next I'm sweet. Which one am I?"

I would have answered him, but I happened to see the picture Archie was looking at on the laptop. A man, who's skull had been chopped into with an ax. The sight of the blood and brains was too much for me. I ran for the bathroom. It was a dry heave so nothing came up. I groaned and walked over to the sink.

"You're getting sick at everything these days." Sherlock observed.

"And…it's all your fault." I gasped. "Between floating eyeballs, wedding stress, blood, brains and guts, it's a wonder I haven't plastered the walls a new color!"

He chuckles and rubs my shoulders. "So, sweet or psychopath?"

"Why don't I just call you a sickeningly, sweet, psychopath?"


	81. 81: Coordinating, a case and a possibili

Chapter eighty-one

Coordinating, a case and a possibility

"Need to work on your half of the church, Mary," Sherlock observed. "looking a bit thin."

Mary smiles. "Ah, orphan's lot, friends, that's all I have. Lots of friends."

Sherlock continues talking. "Schedule the organ music to begin at precisely 11.48."

"But the rehearsal's not for another two weeks." Mary said. "Just calm down."

"Calm?" Sherlock is indignant. "I am calm. I'm extremely calm."

I snort. "As calm as a one armed scuba diver in a shark fight." Sherlock glowers at me. "Sorry."

"Let's get back to the reception," Mary suggests. "Come on." Sherlock walks over to the table. Mary hands him an RSVP card. "John's cousin. Top table?"

Sherlock glances at the card. "Hates you, can't even bear to think about you."

Mary stares up at him in amazement. "Seriously?"

"Second class post, cheap card," he sniffs it and makes a face. "bought at a petrol station. Look at the stamp, three attempts at licking. She's obviously unconsciously retaining saliva."

"Ah, let's stick her by the bogs."

"Bogs?" I ask.

"Bathroom." Sherlock supplies.

"Oh yes." Mary leans closer to Sherlock. "Who else hates me?"

"Don't ask." I warn her.

Sherlock hands her a piece of paper with a long list of names on it. "Oh great, thanks!"

John is looking at his phone. "Priceless painting nicked, looks interesting."

Mary is looking at paperwork on the table. "Table four?"

"Done."

John is chuckling at a case on the phone. "My husband is three people."

"Table five?" Mary asks

Sherlock looks at the list. "Major James Sholto, who he?"

"Oh, John's old commanding officer." Mary says. "I don't think he's coming."

"He'll be there." John said.

"Well," Mary says. "he needs to RSVP, then."

John replied firmly. "He'll be there." He continued reading from his phone. "My husband is three people." It's interesting. Says he has three distinct patterns of moles on his skin."

Sherlock stands up and speaks in his rapid deduction tone. "Identical triplets, one in half a million births. Solved it without leaving the flat. Now, serviettes." He reaches under the coffee table and pulls out a tray with two serviettes folded into different shapes. "Swan, or Sydney Opera House?"

Mary stares at him in amazement. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

Sherlock shrugs. "Many unexpected skills required in the field of criminal investigation-

I shake my head as Mary calls Sherlock on his lie. "Fibbing, Sherlock."

He continues with his fib. "I once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of-

"I'm not John." Mary reminds him. "I can tell when you're fibbing."

Sherlock groans in exasperation. "Okay, I learned it on Youtube."

"Opera House, please." She reaches into her trouser pocket. "Oh, hang on. I'm buzzing." She answers her phone. "Hello? Oh, hi, Beth!" Mary heads for the kitchen. " Yeah, yeah, don't see why not."

John stands up and looks directly at Sherlock. "Actually, if that's Beth, it's probably for me too. Hang on."

He heads for the kitchen, while Sherlock sits cross-legged on the floor. I smile at him as he begins making those serviettes. I shake my head. "Why don't you get John out of here?" I ask. "He's going crazy.'

Sherlock shrugs. "He's fine."

I nod. "Yes, and that means what?"

"Nothing."

Sherlock, I can tell, is actually terrified about the wedding. He's worried that John's marriage is going to change everything. So, he's trying to speed it up and get it over with. I frown and stand up. "Get John out of the house. Please."

I head upstairs to check on Linda and Sherlock in the nursery. Sherlock had a folding, attic ladder installed in his room so I could climb straight upstairs instead of climbing up the flat stairs. Also, if I was mad at him, I had no way to lock him out of the flat. It was in the bedroom, so I always kept my bedroom door shut so they couldn't get inside. I came in to find them playing happily together with their building blocks. They're so intent on their game that they don't even notice me. So I retreat and head back down the ladder.

I go back to 'wedding coordinator room' as I've dubbed our living room now. Sherlock is looking at John's phone with interest. "Uniform fetishist, all the nice girls like a soldier."

"It's sailor." John corrects him. "And Bainbridge thinks his stalker is a bloke. "Let's go and investigate. Please?"

Sherlock frowns. "Elite Guard."

"Forty enlisted men and officers."

"Why this particular Grenadier?"

"Maybe he's the cutest?" Sherlock glances up at me and I smile. "But I'm sure he's got nothing on you."

Sherlock looks back on his phone. "Curious."

"Now you're talking."

Sherlock hands john his phone back. "Okay."

They stand up and walk towards the doors just as Mary comes back into the room. "Bye."

John begins to stammer. "We're just going to ... I need, um, Sherlock to help me choose some, er, socks."

Sherlock almost blows it by saying. "Ties." Both the men shoot each other questioning looks.

Mary glances from one to the other. "Why don't we go with socks?"

"Yeah."

"I mean," Mary says. "you've got to get the right ones."

"Exactly," John says. "to go with my-

"Tie." Sherlock offers.

But John says. "Outfit."

Mary looks at John. "That'll take a while, right?"

John points towards the kitchen. "My coat in there?"

Yes!"

He walks into the kitchen and Mary and Sherlock step a little closer. Sherlock says quietly. "Just going to take him out for a bit…. run him."

Mary says. "I know. You said you'd find him a case!"

Sherlock nods and glances towards me. "Be home in time for supper and text me if you're going to be late. "Right."

He leans forward to kiss me as John comes through the kitchen doorway. "Come on, Sherlock."

Sherlock closes the distance and kisses me quickly. "Coming."

He turns and goes to exit the flat, then turns back to face Mary. She gives John and Sherlock double thumbs-up. Both men deduce that the thumbs up is only for them, but I'm in a better position. I can barely hold my laughter back until I hear the flat door slam shut.

I start laughing, as does Mary. "I thought they'd never leave!"

I shake my head. "I warned you about him."

Mary nodded. "Yes, but he's actually a good wedding coordinator. He could make a fortune."

"Yes, then I'd ask him for a divorce because I couldn't stand him as a wedding coordinator. They're such dreadful snobs."

Mary laughed. "Frankly, I don't know how you stand him."

I shrug. "Neither do I at times." I bite my lip and ask what's been on my mind. "Mary…could you…examine me?"

She frowns. "Are you sick?"

I shake my head. "No. I-I've been feeling rather sick lately." Her eyes narrow. "Throwing up in the mornings and such, Sherlock hasn't really noticed because he's so busy."

"You'd think _he'd _notice."

"We're too close, you can't always see everything up close." I exhale. "The thing is….I think I might be pregnant."

Mary stares at me. "Oh my! I don't know if I should congratulate you or sympathize with you."

"We don't even know if I'm pregnant or not, so shall we do both? And this time," I smirk. "if I am pregnant, Sherlock isn't going to miss out on it."

Mary frowned. "I hope he's not one of those terribly anxious fathers." My blood runs cold. "You know, worries about the mother's weight and whatever she's doing."

I groan. "Mary, start praying I'm not pregnant. Sherlock is a high, and I mean _high _functioning sociopath. And if I'm pregnant, I am not going to get a moment's peace!"


	82. 82: The stag party

Chapter eighty-two

The stag party

All is silent. It's deafening. I can't stand it. Twins are asleep and I haven't seen or heard a word from Sherlock since he'd come back for supper. He was encouraging the children to have bad eating habits and unfortunately, they were listening to their father. No sooner had he finished dinner, did he immediately dash out again to have a stag party with John. I couldn't believe that he'd suggested it and the pattern of pubs they were going to be every pub where they'd found a dead body, 10-1, they'd get most of the drinks on the house. But Sherlock promised me he wouldn't get drunk, he'd deduced how much alcohol they'd consume so they'd be able to come home sober.

Mary had come over, just long enough to hand me a pregnancy test, which, to my utter, joy, dismay and horror….two pink lines showed up. I sat on the toilet seat in stunned silence before coming out of the room.

"So," Mary asked happily. "are you pregnant?" I turn the test towards her, showing a pink line. She squealed and danced happily. "Oh Tammy! How wonderful!"

I nod. "Wonderful."

She frowns at me. "Aren't you happy?"

"Happy?" I shake my head. "I'm going to have another baby and this time the father is going to be around. Don't you know what this means? No, of course you don't. He's going to make me stick to the diet John gives me. He's going to be constantly examining me for any subtle changes. He's going to read an entire book on the subject and take note of everything I shouldn't be doing! He's probably going to be testing my blood and urine to make sure I have enough calcium and whatever vitamins!" I begin laughing and crying. "Of course I'm happy!"

Mary hugs me. "I'm glad, for a minute I was sure you weren't happy."

"How can I not be happy?" I said. "This is the first time that I'm actually happy to be pregnant! When I had the twins I found out five minutes after Sherlock had jumped so I was devastated. This time…he's actually going to be here for me."

It was almost 11:00 when I'd finally heard a noise. I was in Sherlock flat, in my nightdress and robe, reading Jane Eyre and crying over it again. I set the book aside and went towards the door. I didn't see anyone, so I peered over the rail to see both boys on the bottom steps. John is on his back, looking upwards, with his arms folded; Sherlock is on his side facing the banisters.

Sherlock speaks, his speech definitely slurred. "I have an international reputation." He looks over his shoulder at John. "Do you have an international reputation?"

"No," I can tell John is drunk as well. But not as drunk as Sherlock, because he's used to alcohol. "I don't have an international reputation."

"No." Sherlock slurs. "And I can't even remember what for." At this point I have to cover my mouth to keep from laughing. He thinks for a second. "Sss...crime ... something or other."

I hear Mrs. Hudson's door opens and then her voice. "Oh, what are you doing back? I thought you were going to be out late."

"Ah, Hudders," Sherlock asks. "what time is it?"

"You've only been out two hours."

They both attempt to sit up, but they're wedged too tightly together. Sherlock falls off the step and thumps on his backside onto the next step down. I laugh and go straight back into the flat. I knew they were going to come in and I wasn't going to miss this! I grab the video camera that Sherlock had given me for Christmas and I set it up on the mantle piece.

It takes all my control to keep from laughing as those two drunken idiots stumble up into the room. I watch as they locate a bottle of whiskey, two glasses and settle into their chairs. They then begin to play Rizla and stick the paper on their foreheads. Written on Sherlock's, is his name and John has 'Madonna' on his forehead.

John peers at him, trying to keep his eyes open. "Am I a vegetable?"

Sherlock is holding a glass of whiskey in one hand as he points at John. "You, or the thing?"

I groan as they snicker. "Funny!" John says.

Sherlock looks down. "Thank you."

"Come on."

Sherlock responds in an almost sober tone. "No, you're not a vegetable."

"It's your go."

Sherlock drinks out of his glass. "Errr ... am I human?"

John said. "Sometimes."

"Can't have sometimes," Sherlock says. "has to be-

Sherlock is so drunk that he can't even pull himself up in his chair. "Yes, you're human."

Sherlock sets his glass down and leans back in his seat. "Yes, I know, okay." He leans woozily forward. "And am I a man?"

"Yep."

"Tall?"

John holds his hands out. "Not as tall as people think."

"Hmm. Nice?"

John shrugs. "Ish."

"Clever?"

"I'd say so."

"You would?" John chuckles. "Hmm, am I important?"

John stutters. "To some people."

"Do people," he makes drunken air-quotes "like me?"

"Er, no, they don't. You tend to rub them up the wrong way."

"Okay." Sherlock totally missed the clue that John gave him. John snorts as Sherlock slumps back in his chair before leaning forward again. "Am I the current king of England?"

"Are you," John cackles with laughter and I cover my mouth to keep my laughter inside me. This is going to be priceless. "you know we don't have a king?"

"Don't we?"

"No."

Sherlock sits back. "Your go."

John shifts forward and he almost falls out of his seat. Or at least he would have, had he not been able to use Sherlock's knee to push himself back into his seat. Sherlock look down at his hand as John pulls his hand away. "I don't mind." Sherlock shrugs it off. "Am I a woman?" Sherlock looks at him for a second, and then snorts out a laugh. The absurdity of the question almost causes me to laugh. "What?"

"Yes!"

"Am I ... pretty?" He points to the note on his forehead. "This."

"Beauty is a construct based entirely on childhood impressions," Sherlock sounds hysterically adorable when he's deducing while drunk. "influences and role models."

"Yeah, but am I a pretty lady?"

Sherlock leans forward and screws up his eyes, attempting to see better. "I don't know who you are." He confesses. "I don't know who you're supposed to be."

"You picked the name!"

Sherlock flails his arm. "But I picked it at random from the papers. Or….someone named….Tammy….who is Tammy?"

"Your wife."

"Wife…right. Tammy mentioned her once."

John slumps back in his seat. "You're not really getting the hang of this game, are you, Sherlock?"

Sherlock looks upwards towards his own Rizla, as if his eyes will allow him to read the note. "So I am human, I'm not as tall as people think I am," he sits back in his chair. "I'm-I'm nice-ish…clever, important to some people, but I tend to rub them up the wrong way." He laughs with delight. "Got it."

"Go on, then."

"I'm you, aren't I?"

Mrs. Hudson knocks on the open door. "Yoo-hoo! Client!"

I begin tucking my white robe around me more tightly, as much as I hate going out in my nightrobe but there has to be at least one sober mind out there!

"Hallo." John says drunkenly.

Sherlock waves at her. "Hallo!"

John gestures the woman into the room. "Come on."

The woman is a shy, nurse, possibly a private nurse. She shifts uncomfortably and asks. "Which one of you is Sherlock Holmes?"

Smiling broadly, John slowly raises his hand and points at Sherlock's forehead, making a loud whistling sound. Sherlock grins widely at her. I enter the room and all heads whip towards me. Sherlock stands up and sways slightly.

"Hello," I say as I approach the client. "my name is Tammy Holmes. And this," Sherlock leans over and plants a drunken kiss on my cheek and ear. "wobbly legged person is my husband." Sherlock kisses me on the mouth and I flush as he makes several loud smacking noises against my lips. I gently nudge him back. "Later. Client, remember?"

"Oh right!" he turns and walks over to his couch, surprisingly, without falling over anything.

I turn to the woman. "Sorry, they're a little tipsy."

She hesitates. "Shall I come back tomorrow?"

"No!" Sherlock says loudly. "There's no time like the present." He and John flop down on the couch. Sherlock claps his hands. "Now, tell us wass happened and don't be borning."

"Boring." I correct him.

"That's what I said! Borning."

I decide not to argue with him. He's impossible when sober and impossible when drunk! I am going to get him tomorrow!


	83. 83: Drunken happiness

Chapter eighty-three

Drunken happiness

I purposely arranged to have Tessa sits in a chair facing them, so that way her face was hidden from the camera. I didn't have time to turn it off and I had no idea what the two boys were going to get up to next.

Tessa began speaking hesitantly. "I don't ... a lot ... I mean, I don't ... date all that much." Sherlock sinks back on the sofa, his body language screaming 'bored' as best as it can it's condition. "and ... he seemed ... nice, you know?"

I nod. "Yes."

"We seemed to automatically connect. We had one night," Tessa seems to go a little wishy-washy on us. "dinner, such interesting conversation. It was ... lovely." John smiles and glances briefly towards Sherlock, who is still showing no real interest. "To be honest, I'd love to have gone further," Sherlock's eyes drift close for a moment, I nudge him with my foot and his eyes open. "but I thought, 'No, this is special. Let's take it slowly." I nod as Sherlock leans forward, bracing his elbows on his legs. "Exchange numbers." Again, his eyes drift close. "He said he'd get in touch and then," she looks down sadly. "maybe he wasn't quite as keen as I was."

John is practically asleep with his eyes open. Sherlock, he looks like a fish out of water. I sympathetically pat her hand. "What strange creatures men are."

"But I, I just thought," she quickly becomes tearful. "at least he'd call to say that we were finished." She wipes her eyes. Sherlock's face fills with sympathy and for a moment I think he's about to cry. Then he frowns as if he's wondering where that emotion came from. I cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Tessa pulls herself together. "I went round there, to his flat." Sherlock has also recovered from his emotional state. "No trace of him. Mr. Holmes. I honestly think I had dinner ... with a ghost."

Neither of them reacts to what she just said, but a slight grunt comes from Sherlock. I roll my eyes, both men appear to be asleep. "Sherlock?" I call.

"Mr. Holmes?" Sherlock continues to snores and John's head drops lower. "With a ghost, Mr. Holmes!" Tessa says loudly.

Sherlock's head falls off his hands and he almost falls off the couch, muttering to himself. "Boring, boring, boring, no! Fascinating!" he turns to John. John, John, wake up!" He shakes John's leg and John opens his eyes. Sherlock turns to Tessa, his voice is still slurred. "Apologies about my," he points at John. "you know... him." I groan as he continues reprimanding John. "Rude. Rude!"

"Drunk." I mutter.

Tessa frowns slightly. "I checked with the landlord, and the man who lived there died. Heart attack. And there we are, having dinner one week on." She picks up her handbag and begins looking through it. "And I found this thing online, sort of chatroom thing," she hands a paper to Sherlock. "for girls who think they're dating men from the spirit world."

John has fallen asleep again. Sherlock stands up unsteadily. "Don't worry. I'll find him in ten minutes."

"Twenty minutes," I tell Tessa. "he's alert, just very, very slow."

"What's your dog's name?" Sherlock asks me.

I frown and say. "Sherlock Holmes."

He nods. "Got it."

John begins talking in his sleep. "Yeah, I'm there if you want it."

"John, wake up!" He shoves John's shoulder and John almost falls over sideways. "We're meant to," he snaps his fingers. "the game's," he waves his hand. "something."

John points at Sherlock. "On".

Tessa gasps excitedly and Sherlock nods. "Yeah, that, that!" He turns and wanders off to retrieve his coat.

Tessa stands up. "Okay!" John pushes himself to his feet and stumbles to retrieve his jacket.

"Keep an eye on them for me." I comment. "I don't want him getting into any trouble, though it sticks to him like fleas on a dog."

She nods. "Yeah, all right. They're actually kinda cute."

Sherlock stumbles towards me. I smile at Tessa. "Excuse me." I cross my arms. "You promised you wouldn't get drunk."

"I…am not drunk!" he states as he sloppily wraps his arms around my waist. "Well, maybe a little. But I'm fine!" Sherlock kisses me, missing my mouth and capturing the tip of my nose. He figures it out and moves to my mouth. "Don't move." I smile as he kisses my mouth. His breath is terrible, but the kiss isn't so bad. He stumbles forward and we both fall backwards onto the couch. "Uhhm," he tilts his head to the side. "you should put on more weight. You're like a feather….fall over too easy."

I laugh at him and give him a shove. "Go on! Solve that case and get back here in an hour!"

"I promise!"

* * *

_The following morning,_

* * *

I shake my head as I follow Greg back to wake Sherlock and John up from their escapades. Greg laughs. "I still can't believe you let him stay in jail overnight!"

"He was drunk and I didn't want him vomiting on the carpet. Better he does that in jail where I don't have to clean it up."

Greg laughs. "He threw up all ready, at the crime scene."

"He is going to be so ticked off with himself." I laugh. "I've got this video of John and Sherlock drunk. I'll send it to you, but you didn't get it from me."

He nods as he inserts the keys into the lock. "I understand. I don't think I've ever, seen him drunk."

I laugh. "It's adorable."

"That's another word I don't associate with Sherlock."

"I'm his wife. So of course he's adorable."

"Wakey-wakey!" Greg shouts cheerfully as he throws the cell door open.

John is up against the wall, grimacing in pain. "Oh my God."

I step inside the cell to see Sherlock is on his back and fast asleep on a bench. I shake my head and approach him. "Idiot."

"Greg." John asks blindly. "Is that Greg?"

"Get up," he orders. "I'm gonna put you two in a taxi. Tammy and I managed to square things with the desk sergeant." John climbs painfully to his feet as Greg laughs. I climb up on Sherlock, my legs straddling him. He's still fast asleep. "What a couple of lightweights! You couldn't even make it to closing time!"

John talks quietly as he slowly moves towards the cell door. "Can you whisper?"

Greg yells in his ear as he passes by. "NOT REALLY!"

Sherlock flails upwards, his eyes wide and his mouth open in shock. He looks round the cell in bewilderment. His expression only grows more confused when he realizes that he can't get up because I'm straddling him. "GOOD MORNING!" I shout happily as I throw my arms around his neck. Sherlock groans and covers his ears as he falls back.

John gives Greg a look of hurt before he leaves the cell. Greg beckons to Sherlock, his tone softer. "Come on."

Sherlock tries to get up, but can't with me sitting on him. He can't speak yet, so he pats my hip. "You want me to get off?" He nods. "All right!"

I get off him and stand by him as Greg chuckles. Sherlock sits up on the bench, stands, and promptly falls back onto the bench. I laugh as he then stands up gingerly, puts his fingers to his temples, and throws one foot for balance. After a moment he lowers his hands and delicately walks out of the cell.

I follow him and slap him on the shoulder, almost sending him to the ground. "Feel good?"

"Shut…up…Tammy." He grumbles.

"Why?" I ask, singing the word, hitting the high note on the letter 'y,' Sherlock winces. "It's a beautiful morning."

"Sorry." He stumbles sideways and I wrap my arm around his waist. "Thanks."

I laugh. "Keep your hand on my shoulder until you regain your equilibrium."

He frowns down at me. "Big word."

"Yes. I read the dictionary waiting for you to return."

"Sorry."

"You've got several things to be sorry for." I remind him. "Remember? You promised you wouldn't get drunk."

He winced. "My alcohol level got compromised. I think someone slipped me a Mickey." I laugh. "Are you mad at me?"

I shook my head. "I was, then I saw you this morning." I giggle. "Oh, you looked so silly."

Sherlock stops, grabs my face in one hand, and kisses me, thumping my back against the wall. I smile and wrap my arms around his waist. He draws back and rests his hot forehead against mine. "Tammy, you know I love you, right?" I nod. "Will you do me a favor?" I nod. "Please….shut up. Your voice is splitting my head."

I laugh and kiss him again. "I'll think on it. maybe if I torture you, you'll never get drunk again!"

"Trust me, I'm not going to!"

he moves to go away, but I grab his coat collar and pull him back. "Just a minute." He looks down at me as I tuck his shirt back inside his pants. "Can't have you going out looking like a mess."

Sherlock's eyes spark a little impishly. "You sure you're not looking for anything down there?"

I swat his chest as I begin to button his coat. "I am not! Believe me, I've no need to look for it!"

He takes my hand and we make our way to the front desk of the police station to claim his items. Sherlock grunts as he tries to put his coat back on. I take pity on him and help. "Allow me." John tucks his wallet into his back pocket.

Sherlock nods. "Thank you."

I smile as John says. "Well, thanks for a ...you know," we walk away from the desk. Sherlock keeps his arm around my waist, so his gait was a little more even. "an evening."

Sherlock groans. "It was awful."

"Yeah." Sherlock groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I was gonna pretend, but it was, truly."

He lowers his hand. "That woman, Tessa."

John frowns in confusion. "What?"

"Dated a ghost, the most interesting case for months. What a wasted opportunity."

"Okay." John says quietly.

"If you weren't drunk, you could have solved it."

"Tammy," Sherlock says tiredly. "I love you, you love me, so please…shut up."

I shake my head. "How can I resist such a nice invitation?"


	84. 84: Family day

Chapter eighty-four

Family Day

"Tammy," Sherlock moans from his sprawled position on the couch. "can't you do something with these…crawlers?"

"Children." I look up to find Sherlock looking up at his father with curious eyes. Since Sherlock is lying on his stomach, he can't avoid his son's penetrating gaze. Linda, well, she's crawled up onto his back and is pulling his hair in her little fists. I smile and turn off my laptop. "They're your children."

"Linda's got hands like a centipede." He complains as she gives his hair an extra tug. "An angry centipede."

I laugh. "She's got the power of picking up emotions. She can tell I'm mad at you and that your head aches. I don't know if her pulling your hair is helping it any."

He shrugs. "I don't really know either way."

I laugh and run my finger down his nose. "You're such a baby."

"I am not."

"Oh, really?"

"And thank you for turning off that….comedian about drinking."

I smirk. "Don't like Bill Cosby do you?"

"No."

"He's hysterical."

"You played that whole drunken skit four times!"

"He's brilliant! He's deduced several kinds of drunks perfectly! He's like you kinda, except he doesn't get drunk!"

"Do _not _put Bill Cosby and I in the same category!"

"You have no sense of humor."

"I do too!" He says indignantly.

"Really?" I hand him my video camera, which I left on the coffee table, turn it on and hand it to him. "I filmed this."

"What is it?" he asks.

"Just listen."

Sherlock exhales impatiently as he watches the video. Then, his eyes slowly widen as he realizes what I've video taped. He looks up at me, his eyes wide with surprise. "What is this?"

"You an John last night."

He stared at me. "You didn't!"

"I did!"

He squints. "What did he write on my forehead.?"

I chuckle. "Your name."

"John!" He growls out. He deletes the video and flips off the camera. "Don't…ever…do that again!"

"Then don't give me invitations like that." I shrug. "Besides, that's not the only copy."

"What?"

I laugh. "It's actually quite funny."

"There's something else you're hiding from me."

"I've given, John, Mary and Greg a copy of it. Not to mention I had several good places to hide copies while you were in prison."

"I swear," he grounds out. "if these children weren't pinning me down-

"You'd make me forget my name," I tilt my head to the side and bit my lip, knowing he can't resist it. "right?"

He sulks. "Not what I had in mind."

I kiss him on the cheek. "Maybe tonight, if your headache is better and I feel up to letting you touch me, I'll let you try and make me forget my name. Now, come on, you've got that ghost date to take care of."

He shakes his head. "Not yet, I'm still under the influence somewhat."

"All right. Why don't we all go for a walk? Get a coffee or something like that?"

Sherlock nods. "That actually sounds nice."

"Good. I'll get the kids ready and you freshen up."

Sherlock sits up and lets out a hiss. Linda is still holding onto his hair in a tight fist. "Tammy?"

"You can talk to her." I say as I pick up Sherlock jr. and head out of the room. "She won't bite."

"I'm not good with children."

"Naturally, you're the biggest child of the three. Now, get going!"

* * *

Sherlock inhales deeply as Linda screams right in his ear. We're both standing up standing beside the children. Linda does not like it, while Sherlock is squealing happily while he jerks on the horses 'reins' waving happily at anyone who'll look at him.

"How much longer?" Sherlock asks.

I laugh and move closer to him, bumping him playfully with my hip. "Not much longer."

"You said that thirty seconds ago." I lean my hand on his shoulder and ruffle his hair. "Does she _ever _shut up?"

"No. Talk to her, get her to calm down."

"Really Tammy, you're better at this than I am."

"And you cannot go on ignoring your children. I know your father ignored you," he glowered at me. "And you said that you want to make up for the time you didn't have them in your life. Now, try it Sherlock."

He exhales, turns towards Linda, and then turns back to me. "What do I do?"

I shake my head. "You're sweet, calm her down, talk soothingly to her. Hop up behind her, hold her, try any of those things."

Sherlock awkwardly places his hand around Linda, and murmurs things into her ear. Just as I predicted, Linda stopped screaming and latched onto her father's shoulder, before planting a wet, kiss on his cheek. I half expect Sherlock to wipe her slobber away, but he doesn't, he touches her 'kiss' awkwardly examining it. I smile and watch as Sherlock studies her closely. She reaches out with both hands and grabs onto his cheeks. But she soon decides to pat his cheekbones instead because Sherlock doesn't really have much cheek for her to grab onto.

I smile as the carousel comes to a stop, Linda begins to pout. Sherlock undoes her safety belt and lifts her into his arms. I set Sherlock on the ground, he latches onto my hand and I lead him off the carousel. Sherlock carries Linda, his little princess, off before setting her down. She grabs ahold of his trousers and wanders alongside him. Sherlock glances at me, but he doesn't say anything.

I move to stand alongside him. He keeps his hand ontop of her head as they walk together. We walk for a moment in silence for the longest time, until we come to a fountain. "Sit." I say as I pat the edge of the fountain. "Come on."

Sherlock plops down beside me with Linda. I reach for his hand and smile at him. He looks down at my hand for a long moment, then, he runs his hands over mine. He smiles at me. A splash, causes both of us to turn around, to see Linda in the fountain, up to her stomach, wading towards the center of the fountain. Sherlock reaches out and grabs her, falling on his side and into the water.

It takes all of my control to keep from laughing as Sherlock comes up, his face and hair are wet, as is the side of his body. Sherlock glowers at me. "Go ahead, you're trying not to, so just laugh."

I lean forward and brush his wet hair back. "Why don't we go home?"

He frowns. "You're not going to laugh at me?"

"Not out loud."

He groans. "What a day!"

"Night." I correct him. "So, why don't you tell me about this case? Anything to go on?"

"Not much."

"Head feeling better?"

"Fine."

"So, what do you think John is going to call this case?"

he groans. "I don't know."

I lean into his wet side. "How are you doing on the best man's speech?" Sherlock's face freezes into an emotionless stare. "John's a little worried, but I told him not to. You wouldn't do anything to embarrass him on his wedding day."

Sherlock exhales. "I can't believe it's over." I listen patiently to him. "It's going to be…uhmm, awkward now."

"How so?"

he shrugged. "He's got Mary now. He won't have time for this."

"I'm your wife." I point out softly. "I've got two children and I still make time for you. You're John's best friend, you're partners, and nothing's really going to change between you two. Thing's be slightly rearranged, that's all. Do you think John possibly felt this way when you married me?"

Sherlock frowned. "How could he? He wasn't loosing anything of importance."

"He was 'loosing' a friend."

"I didn't move out."

"I moved down and in with you. His life was changed in that case."

"He didn't have a life until he met me and neither did you."

I roll my eyes. "You're right. I actually had a life, but I didn't have a happy life until you fulfilled everyone of my deepest wishes inside of me."

"Name one?"

"That I'd be loved for who I am." He paused and studied me. "For years growing up, I was worried about someone marrying me for my money, my looks, my body."

"I might have married you for one out of three."

I flush. "Maybe, but…it was more than that. You heard John at the wedding, how he described me."

He nods. "Yes, I was wondering who he was talking about. Quiet, modest, and sweet." He adds. "You are, to a degree."

"And he called you highly intelligent, loud-spoken, unorganized and rude. But, you only drop the mask in my presence. You….stripped mine away the moment we met."

He ran his hand down my cheekbone. "And I enjoy stripping it away."

"You see beyond the mask, deep within me. I am…a very passionate person Sherlock, but shy and hesitant as well. You're kind, sweet, and gentle. Only you can bring those responses out in me, and only I can bring those out in you."

Sherlock stepped closer. "And that's why…I never loved Irene Adler." His voice dropped to a low murmur. "I've been waiting for you to figure it out."

Sherlock kissed me, then and there in public, with people milling by us in the streets. We each only had one hand free, for our other hand held onto our children. For a moment, it almost seems like the perfect moment to tell Sherlock that we're going to have another baby on the way. But the sound of a few whistles and catcalls kinda ruined it for me. We pulled apart and I studied the ground as I latched onto his arm.

"Time to get back to the flat." Sherlock said in a business tone. "I've got a case to solve. What is today?"

"Saturday the something or other. Why?"

"Good. Let's make it a tradition to take the kids down to the park every Saturday, provided I'm not at work?" I smile at him. "Let's make it a sort of…family day. How do you like that?"

"I like it very much Mr. Holmes."

* * *

**This chapter is for you, Cyn4675. Thank you so much for you encouraging words and for leaving a review! I'm glad to know my story is good enough to have captured your attention. Enjoy!**


	85. 85: Random

Chapter fifty-eight

Random

Sherlock turns towards me. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Sherlock has me taking notes, which we can compare to find a similarity to Tessa's mystery man. He had John bring over his laptops; he had grabbed mine, two of his and Mrs. Hudson's. It was quite an amusing sight to see him communicating with so many people at once.

"Ok, now we've got Gail, Charlotte, Robyn and Vicky."

I nod. "Ready for the first question. Ask the questions in the _exact _order you told me their names."

He nods. "How did you meet?" I shake my head and marvel at how he is able to multi chat with four people on so many laptops. "Pub. Same gym. Chatting on the bus. Online."

"Random." I mutter.

"Name?"

"They just told you." I softly point out.

"His name." I nod. "Oscar. Mike. Terry." Sherlock frowns before saying. "Um, "love monkey." He turns and shoots me an incredulous look. I snort and shake my head. "Honestly." He turns back to the laptops. "Your place? They all meet at his place."

I nod. "Their mother's didn't teach them about serial killers then I guess."

"I don't think you're a great position to point out facts like that." Sherlock says smoothly. "After all, you had dinner with John and I after meeting for five seconds."

I smirk. "It was a public, safe and controlled area and I had a free dinner."

"After which you were chasing after us over rooftops after a serial killer." His eyes dance with amusement. "Remember?"

"How can I forget? Now, shut up and ask them what happened."

He turns back to his laptop, after several fast clicks he responds. "Nothing happened. It was just ... very romantic." He frowns. "Four women in four nights. He must have something special."

"Ask them what."

"He was very charming. He listened. He was sweet. He had a lovely…

"You okay?" John asks. He points to the table is a plate containing Sherlock's lunch that Mrs. Hudson insisted on making. A slice of gammon steak with a pineapple slice on top of it, a fried egg and some chips. Frankly, I thought the combination was disgusting but then, I was pregnant, so who was going to trust my judgement? "You let your food go cold. Mrs. Hudson'll play hell."

"Not now, John."

"We're busy." I explain as Sherlock resumes his typing. "What did Vicky say? He had a lovely…what?"

"He had a lovely manner." He frowns. "Different names, different addresses. Describe him. Short blond hair. Dark hair, long." I frown as I write down the different descriptions. "Ginger. Couldn't tell."

I give Sherlock a curious look. "How could she not tell?"

"He had a mask on."

I groan. "She doesn't find that odd?"

"Probably not." Sherlock stands up, grabs a newspaper and quickly flicks through the pages. "He's stealing the identity of corpses…getting the names from the Obituary columns. All single men, he's using the dead man's flat under the assumption it'll be empty for a while. Free love nest."

"Oh, that is disgusting!" I say as Sherlock relays that information to the women. "Just…uggghh."

Sherlock laughed. "Is that the most you can say?"

"At the moment. What do the others say?"

"One feels sick. Gruesome. Awful. And…..clever!"

I look at him in surprise. "Clever?"

Another laptop lets out a beep and Sherlock addresses it. "Ahh, hello, Tessa. And she calls him a bastard." I frown as I add Tessa and her words to the notes. "Meanwhile, back to business. No one wants to use a dead man's home. Least not until it's been cleared. So, he disguises himself, steals the man's home, steals his identity."

But only for one night." John points out and Sherlock turns to look at him. "Then he's gone."

Sherlock nods approvingly. "He's not a ghost, John. He's a mayfly. He lives for a day. So, what was it he was looking for?" he asks each of the girls. "Job? Gardener. Cook. Private nurse. Security work. Maid." Sherlock looks down for a brief moment, then raises his head. "Obvious. You all work for the same person!" but he's soon disappointed when the evidence proves him wrong. "No, not the same employer. Damn." He closes his eyes tightly. "Come on. We can do this." He then types out. "Ideal night out?" he turns to me. "Ready for this?"

I nod. "Yes, stop taking it easy on me."

"Fine, clay pigeon shooting. Line dancing. Pictures? Wine in front of the telly. Dungeon." Sherlock shakes his head in disbelief. "This Vicky is a weird character."

"I wouldn't say such things if I were you." I tease him quietly.

"Make-up. Clarins. No. 7. Maybelline. Nothing special. Whatever's cheap."

"Figures." I mutter.

Perfume. Chanel. Chanel. Chanel." Sherlock's face begins to light up. "Chanel." Then the light dims as he slaps the coffee table. "Estée Lauder." He shakes his head disappointedly. "Ideal man?" Sherlock groans. "Oh no."

"What?"

"Tessa says….George Clooney."

"Yecck." I say, wrinkling up my nose.

"Home loving. He'd have to like cuddling. Caring. Oh God, Vicky has ten things. One: someone who isn't competitive with other men. Two: someone who isn't constantly trying to define himself by his masculinity. This is utter rubbish." He turns to me. "Do all women think that way?"

I shrugged. "Depends on the woman."

He studies me. "And you…did you get your ideal man?"

"Yes I did."

"No, I mean, was I everything you originally wanted?"

I frown. "You don't want to know that."

"I do. Vicky's still spewing off her ghastly list of qualities. Besides, I'm curious. Come on."

"Well," I bite my lip briefly. "I wanted him to be rich, so I wouldn't have to worry about him being after my fortune. I wanted…you know wanted him to be like a famous writer, poet, someone with whom I could hold an intellectual conversation. Maintain an somewhat popular social status and still love the silence and privacy of the world. He'd have a deep, understand of human emotions. Kind, considerate, honest, and honorable."

"And instead you got a rude, broke, consulting detective."

"With an international reputation." I remind him. "But we don't always get what we want, we get what we need. And you're exactly what I need. Now, is Vicky done with her ten requests?"

"Uhh, yes. And it's not important." There's a unifying factor. There has to be." He frowns. "None of you reported anything stolen. "Security guard, gardener, cook, maid, and private nurse. He's romancing his way up the pecking order, somebody's pecking order." He closes his eyes. "Come on, think!" his eyes fly open. "Unless," he types out on the keyboard. "Do you have a secret you've never told anyone?" all of the women respond unanimously and Sherlock laughs. "Gotcha! They all said no!"

"What do you mean?" John asks.

"Everyone has secrets, and they all replied too quickly." Several beeps from the laptops and Sherlock groans. "No! Wait! They're all hanging up. Vicky says sorry, sexy," my head shoots up. "some secrets have to stay secret. Tessa asks that we enjoy the wedding." He groans and slams the lid down on the laptop as he straightens up. "Why? Why would he date all of those women and not return their calls?"

John sighs. "You're missing the obvious, mate."

"Am I?"

"He's a man."

Sherlock begins slamming the lids down on each of the laptops. "But why would he change his identity?"

"Maybe he's married."

Sherlock slowly straightens, realizing something. "Oh." He turns to me and his eyes widen in surprise. "Oh!"

"What?" I ask.

"Forgot something. I'll be back later!" He jumps up, grabs his scarf and takes off out of the flat.

I frown. "What could he forget?" I shrug. "Oh well, I'll find out."

"Right." John clears his throat. "Tammy, Mary wants to invite Charles Baker." I turn towards him. "And…do you think Sherlock would mind?"

I bite my lip. "He might…a little bit." I begin picking up my papers. "It's her wedding and her best friend. If it won't be uncomfortable for him, she should invite him." I straighten up and my eyes land on the calendar. My heart jumps and it pauses in my chest. "John…are you aware of what the date is today?"

"Uhh," he glances at his watch and lets out a shocked shout. "oh God, Valentine's Day!" he begins panicking. "I didn't get Mary anything."

"Never mind that!" I say as I wring my hands. "It's our anniversary!" I shriek. "Oh, that's why he's dashing out and about!" I look at the clock. "It's 4:00 now. Oh!" I look around the flat. "This place is a mess! How could _I _forget it? It's my favorite holiday!"

"So we all got caught with our trousers around our ankles." John grabbed his coat. "I've got to go!"

"Go! This is all his fault!" I shout. "He would have to get drunk and distract the heck out of me!"

John takes off without a word. I lean down the banister and call. "Mrs. Hudson!"

She peers up at me. "Yes Tammy? Is something wrong?"

"Yes! It's valentine's Day! Sherlock and my anniversary and the place is a mess!"

"Oh," she hurried up the stairs. "I see. Come on dear; let's attack your flat. Then, you'll send Sherlock on a few errands."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, we'll think of something!"

"I don't like lying to him! He can see through a lie much easier than one can see through a barbed wire fence. Maybe Greg can lock him up for something! Or Molly can drug him or something!"

"What about John?"

"He's in hot water as it is!" I groan. "Oh, what am I going to do?"

"Let's get to work."


	86. 86: Second Chances

Chapter eighty-six

Second Chances

I smoothed my black dress and surveyed the flat. It looked beautiful. And we'd managed to whip it up in such a short time. Angelo had been a darling and had sent our wedding dinner over, just for the two of us. Mrs. Hudson was positively thrilled to have the twins under her care. She'd never had the opportunity to have children, so I didn't mind sharing mine with her. It was an utter joy just to see her happy.

I come out and Mrs. Hudson smiles happily. "Look at your mother." She says to the twins. "Doesn't she look lovely?"

"Pretty." Sherlock says, pointing at me.

I laugh and kneel, hugging them both tightly. "You're both wonderful. Be good and mind Mrs. Hudson. I love you."

"Love you." Sherlock says.

"Love you." Linda comments around the finger she has in her mouth.

I turn to Mrs. Hudson. "Are you sure, you actually want to do this? I feel guilty."

She shakes her head. "No, don't think of it. You and Sherlock rarely get enough time together as it is and an anniversary is a precious thing. Go on, have a good time tonight."

"Thank you!"

The moment she shuts the door, I begin to panic. I pull out my phone and text Sherlock. _Where are you?_

His response is instant. _A block away._

_I'm up in my flat._

_Be there soon._

I smile and set my phone aside on the mantle piece. I hurry into my room again and triple check my makeup again. I was wearing that black cocktail dress again, and I'd clipped a huge red flower in my hair, effectively pinning it to one side. Sherlock enters and slams the door behind him. "Tammy?" he calls out.

"In…the bedroom."

"Right. You will not believe this! I go back to where Tessa first saw our Mayfly man, and the landlord wouldn't let me! I had to get Greg, but he couldn't be disturbed because he was busy consulting with sally on a case." I hesitate and draw myself up. Why was he babbling on like this? I turn around and notice that he's turned the lights on. "You know you're not supposed to leave candles on unattended, especially with children around?" I hear him blow the candles and I finally figure out that Sherlock doesn't understand the whole romantic atmosphere. I walk towards the door to hear him babbling still. "Anyway, so we finally get down there and the landlord has had _everything _taken out! Everything!" I step back into the room to see Sherlock has tossed his coat on his chair and he is now exploring the refrigerator. He pulls out some cucumber slices and begins chewing on them. "Now, I have absolutely no evidence at all. None!"

I shake my head as I watch him, hurt welling up inside me. I'd honestly thought that he'd remembered. For once, he'd remembered something important without me having to remind him. I shake my head. "I'm so sorry to hear that."

The hurt creeps out into my voice and Sherlock turns to face me. His eyes take in my hair, dress, makeup and finally the state of the room. His eyes narrow as he looks around, his brain attempting to figure out what's going on. "Did I…miss something?"

"No. No." I shake my head. "I don't know what I was thinking." I turn and walk briskly towards the bedroom. "I don't know."

"Tammy?" Sherlock's voice is confused. "Wait a minute!" I slam the door shut and lock it. "Tammy?" his voice shows some concern. "Come out here for a minute."

"No!" I reach for the back of my dress and struggle to get out of it. "I don't want to talk to you or see you!"

"Tammy, would you please just…

"Happy Valentines Day!" I shout. "Happy first anniversary! Or is it even our first? I don't know! Now that I think on it, we've never actually had an anniversary!"

Sherlock is silent for a long moment. "Tammy, I am so sorry."

"You're _always _sorry." I reply. "And this time…I want you to leave me alone!"

"Tammy-

"Shut up! Go down to Mrs. Hudson, bring the children's cribs back up and then you can tell her why we aren't on speaking terms!" All is quiet for a long time then I let out a loud grunt and cry as I finally bring the zipper down on the back of my dress. In doing so, I wrenched my shoulder and I now stood, dress pooling at my feet, rubbing my shoulder. Sherlock tries the doorknob and I groan. "I locked the door, now go away!"

The door clicks open and I spin around to see Sherlock standing there. I glower at him and stomp into my bathroom. "Now Tammy." I slam the door on whatever it is he has to say. I instantly realize that he can unlock this door, he can unlock _any _door, so I'm stuck with him. I grab my white silk robe from the back of the bathroom door and put it on.

He opens the door and I push past him, tying the sash around my waist. "Excuse me."

He, of course, grabs my arm and spins me around to face him. I glower at him as he studies me. He reaches out to touch my cheek. "Tammy." I push his hand away and he exhales. "I really am sorry."

"You say that all the time."

"Tammy," his tone is cautious. "I hate to point this out but…you forgot it was our anniversary too."

"Yes, but I didn't _forget _forget! You did!"

he frowns. "Forget, forget? What is that?"

"I forgot, but once I saw the calendar, I hastened to fix things up. You! You give every impression of a man who remembers that it's his anniversary before bolting out the door! And Mrs. Hudson and I spent the last four hours redecorating the flat so it would look nice."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not finished yet!" I snap at him. He blinks in surprise. "I had to go out shopping to get the perfect candles, mood music and a few flowers as well! I then take care of the children, feed them and let Mrs. Hudson wash the dishes while I take a bath, select the dress, the perfect makeup, and the perfect accessories before coming out. I light the candles, put the food out, go in and check my appearance one more time before you walk in. and what do you do?" I shake my head. "The lights were out, the fireplace was going, there's a romantic piano playing, there's candles lit. What did you think was going on? I just randomly ask you to meet me up there for no reason?"

"I didn't take notice Tammy."

"You blew the candles out."

"I was focused on…myself." I groan in aggravation. He knows exactly how easily I break when he accepts the wrong for once. "Tammy, I didn't completely forget, well, I held onto a vague memory."

"You 'deleted' out wedding anniversary. Of course it's a vague memory."

Sherlock reached into his pocket and drew out a small box. "There was a street festival and this caught my eye. I admit, I didn't know why, but I got it for you."

I step towards him and take the package. He stands there, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thighs. I open the package slowly and stand there in silence as I look at the necklace he'd bought me. It wasn't exotic, it was simple, a heart-shaped locket on a silver chain. The heart has a red rose on it. I keep my gaze on the locket, pondering my response. Part of me wants to be mad, but most of the other part of me has forgiven him and is ready to burst into tears. I don't have a moment to decide. Sherlock pulls me into his arms and kisses me. I groan in aggravation and pleasure at his kiss. I shake my head and wrap my arms around his neck. After a moment, I break the kiss and rest my cheek alongside his shoulder.

"Am I forgiven?"

"Why bother asking, you know I make it an extreme habit of forgiving you the moment you walk in the door. Can you forgive me?" I ask. "I should have known that you'd have forgotten and I shouldn't have gone all off you."

"Of course Tammy."

"Thank you Sherlock." I pull away and pick up my dress. "Now, go on, you go light the candles while I get dressed. We'll try this again."

"You're always giving me second chances." He exhales. "Tammy, could I join you back here in five minutes?"

I frown. "Why?"

"Just trust me. Ok?"

I nod. "All right." Sherlock turns and bolts out of the room. I shake my head in dismay. "What are you up to now?" I get dressed, touch up my lipstick, light the candles and reheat our dinner trays. It's a little bit over Sherlock's five minutes, but I don't mind. I turn the music on just as someone knocks on the door. "Come in." I say. No one responds. In fact, they knock on the door again. I frown and walk cautiously to the door. "Who's there?"

Sherlock groans on the other end. "It's me. I should have known you'd be cautious. Open up." I frown and open the door to see Sherlock standing there with a bouquet of red roses for me. I smile as he hands them lovingly to me. "I figured that it was about time that I bought you some roses. Everyone's bought you roses except for me, so, on our…anniversary seemed like the right time."

I smile as I shift the roses to my left side. "I love you."

"I know." Sherlock leans forward and murmurs as he closes the distance between us. "And I love you too."

I smile as he pulls me close. For a moment, I almost tell him that he's about to become a father again, but this just….isn't the right moment. To everything there is a season. And when the moment is right…I'll know.

* * *

**Ok, this was a difficult decision for me, but it was soon made easy when I saw snippets of the third episode. I realize now that I have to make a part 2 for this story, because it's getting way too huge and I know for a fact that I've got a long, long way to go. So, please keep your eyes open for part 2 called 'Gravity.' I shall be posting it in a few hours. It's really late on my end, so I'm really tired, otherwise I would write the first chapter of 'Gravity.' But I do have most of it ready, almost the first chapters, so the updates will still be just as fast. Thank you everyone for making this a wonderful experience for me. I won't send roses is the first fic I've had that I can call a success and I owe it to each and everyone one of you! And a special thanks to Trrmo77.**


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